


Tangle

by KandyKitten



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Hurt Loki, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulative Loki, Mass Death, Nick Fury Lies, Protective Thor, Psychological Drama, Psychological Torture, Self-Hatred, Threatening Invasion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 68,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KandyKitten/pseuds/KandyKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is being punished on Asgard, but when events lead him back to earth, he escapes and immediately goes for revenge. Fighting the Avengers on his own soon proves to be too much for him to handle. In his enemys' hands, Loki starts to re-thinks his actions, but with the Avengers's distrust working against him; the secrets being revealed in Asgard and Thanos already on the move, it might still be too late...</p><p>Post-Avengers, ignoring Thor-The Dark World so far, as this has been started before the movie came out.<br/>Rated 'T' for violence and possible triggers</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Judgment

**Author's Note:**

> Every character belongs to Marvel; I just play with them a little.

He had expected a room full of people, watching citizens and soldiers alike. He had expected the air to be humming with shuffles of boots, the clink of armory and whisper of shifting fabric. He had expected hundreds of mouths murmuring words of hatred and mockery. He had expected hundreds of accusing eyes following every step of his humiliating walk towards the judgment chair.

What he got when he was dragged before the king by the Einherjar's unyielding hands was silence and probably the smallest audience that had ever gathered in Asgard's long, long history of trials.

The golden boxes were almost entirely empty, just about twenty people perched on the benches next and above the throne: Odin's brothers-in-arms on its right and Thor's personal worshippers - Sif and the Warrior's Three - on its left.

A little…insulting. Well, at least they all wore their ceremonial armory…

…while _he_ had been stripped of all signs identifying him as Asgardian citizen, let alone royalty.

Loki had seen more than one trail in his life but had never really understood why the accused were brought forward in nothing but one layer of fabric. Now that it was him, he could see all too well. Without his usual many layers of fabric, leather and metal, he felt light, defenseless, almost naked between all those heavily armed men.

It was a wonderful psychic trick. He was utterly humiliated and ridiculously intimidated, but he would die before showing it. He would never degrade himself in front of this man again.

So, despite his racing heart and clenched stomach,, he walked down the aisle with long, determined steps, shoulders back and chin raised, his eyes meeting those of everybody he passed with fake confidence and real disdain; his whole demeanor showing as much pride as he could muster beaten up, stripped of his armor, chained and gagged as he was.

The guards stopped at the golden stairs leading up to the throne, forcing him to stand between them.

By now, Loki's heart was racing one mile a minute, but still, he straightened his back even further, taking a prince's stance instead of kneeling as a prisoner should do. His eyes cockily locked with Odin's.

People started shuffling nervously as he made no move to greet or honor the king. From the corner of his eye, Loki saw Thor uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the not very convincing hard facade he had worn until now dissolved into a mask of sheer worry.

Had it been possible behind the muzzle, he would have grinned.

At his sides, the guards raised their spears and forcefully slammed them into the back of his knees, simultaneously pushing him down. Loki fell to his knees with an undignified gasp. He tried to glare up at them, but just a moment later, their hands painfully clawed into his hair and forced his head down into a servile bow.

Behind him, he heard a few chuckles and his hands clenched.

They would pay for this.

He would make them pay. He would silence those mocking tongues, blind every condemning eye, burn this hall down, melt all the gold and crystal and steel until all this blinding, arrogant splendor was nothing more than smoke.

For now, he had to be satisfied with re-locking his eyes with the king's as soon as he could, hoping the humiliation and fear he felt would not show on his face.

Odin looked back at him, but Loki could not tell if he was angry or impressed with that little show of defiance. The king's face, barely visible under the golden helmet, was an impassive mask. Loki was not sure if he liked that. Anger would have been better. Every emotion would have been better.

Slowly, the king rose from his throne, back and shoulders perfectly straight.

With his golden armor, rippling wool and silk and the heavy cape cascading over his shoulders and back to gather on the floor behind his boots, he looked strong and powerful despite his age. Impressive enough to cause Loki's mouth to go dry.

Gugnir's hilt touched the floor gently – for a heartbeat Loki remembered holding the spear, wielding it, the hum of power hidden beneath the surface and felt a surprising pang of jealousy cutting through the fear – but in the perfect silence it rung clear as a bell, as did Odin's voice.

"Loki…"

There was a pause, just long enough for the trickster to wonder if the dreaded lie 'Odinson' or the hated, despised, but true 'Laufeyson' would follow, but, cunning as he was, Odin found a way to avoid the decision.

"… of Asgard. You have lied and deceived to usurp the throne and attempted to murder one of your own kin and four warriors aiding him."

There was muttering at this, some people shifted. The king's voice easily drowned them out, but still, Loki could literary feel their outrage.

"You attempted not only to commit genocide but to kill all living things on Jotunheim, as you brought every surrounding world in danger while doing so. You allied yourself with a force hostile to this and every other world and, collaborating with this force, attempted to overtake a world that stood basically helpless against your powers, willingly risking and taking many innocent lives in the process."

Loki felt his stomach clamp painfully and, for the first time, broke their eye contact.

There was only one fitting punishment for his crimes, he had known that before being brought before the throne…he had known form the moment the human's strange, green creature started smashing him into the floor like a child their ragdoll.

The only question was: How was he going to die?

"The fitting punishment for those crimes would be exile…

Loki's eyes snapped up. _What_?

"…but your silver tongue has proven to be too dangerous. I cannot risk your poisoned words bringing another force up against us. Therefore, I sentence you to feel the consequences of your crimes until you have learned."

This time, the mutterings were louder, less angry and more confused. Nobody could imagine what this, _feel the consequences until you learn_ , could mean. It was unlike any other sentence spoken here. Loki was almost sure that it was some strange euphemism for torture.

Except, there had never been a need for euphemisms in Asgard.

"Do you have anything to say before your punishment is taken out?"

One of the guards reached down, stoke Loki's long hair out of the way – he had to suppress a shudder when the cold hand touched the skin on his neck - and touched the muzzle somewhere at its back with both hands. For a moment, the metal got even tighter, then it fell open, finally freeing his jaw of all pressure.

Loki took a few deep breaths and relished the feeling of being able to breath freely again, then he slowly stood up again, re-straightened his back and slowly pushed his hair back and out of his face, buying the time he needed to shove his nervous confusion away for the moment.

"I just have to say this…" he started slowly, proud that his voice did not shake in the slightest. A little raspy, but strong and steady.

Odin's chin went up a little, apparently curious of his answer, Thor shifted again, worry and pleading mixing in his face, urging his brother to stay calm and pliant. Loki's eyes found his, held and released them.

"I confess."

Surprised sighs and murmuring, like a soft, white noise set in. Loki listened, let the suspense raise and made sure his expression was hard and unyielding.

"Ultimately, it was my hands that shed blood, carried out all the crimes counted by you, but they carried out the results of your lies, your deceiving, of your twisted morals and pretense. My actions were brought on by yours…and by your words."

Thor groaned, but Loki's eyes were fixated on Odin. Now, finally, there was a reaction, just a little frown, but it sent a hot wave of delighted excitement through his body.

Odin had not forgotten his mistake on the Bifrost's edge.

"Therefore, you may do to me whatever you want. You can sic you best men onto me, you can torture me with every cruelty your or their minds can concoct, let me feel all of Asgard's unrestrained brutality _,_ but you can never change the fact that my sheer existence has your precious throne _tremble on its ground_!"

His voice had become a hiss, and while Loki spit every word out as if tasting bitter, he threw himself forward, effectively forcing his guards a step forward.

"Every lie, no matter how well-spun it may be will unravel one day and when your many wrongs come to light, it will happen through my hand. My revenge will come over you. I will show this and every other world the rotten deceiver you truly are and force you to your knees in the end."

Finally, finally there was the trace of shock and pain in Odin's eyes that he had been looking for. It was almost satisfying…but Loki was not done yet. His lips twisted into a rabid, toothy grin and he opened his arms as far as the chains let him.

"Every man creates his own monster. Have a good look on what stands before you in chains today, Odin Allfather, for it was created by you and it shall be your downfall."

There was shocked, tense silence following his statement, then Odin raised his spear. Gugnir's hilt hit against the floor, the impact resonating louder than it should have been possible. The sentence was spoken and the trial over.

A hand twisted itself into his hair and brutally pulled his head back. A second hand clamped around his chin in a vice-like grip, holding him still while the muzzle was placed over his mouth and pulled cruelly taut, bruising his jaw and painfully crushing his lips against his teeth until he tasted blood.

The copper taste brought back the fear – fun was over, now there would be pain. They did not lead him down the aisle this time but through a smaller, though not less shiny door at the room's side, through the looming shadows under the overhanging grandstand, but despite the blood pounding in his ears, Loki followed without a struggle.

Had he just known what awaited him, he would have thrown himself to Odin's feet and begged for mercy instead.


	2. Two Sides Of A Coin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind responses^^
> 
> Warning: There will be some torture in this, but nothing too explicit.

Even though he did still count as young, judging by what age he could reach - if nobody ended his existence first - Loki _had_ seen more than two thousand years of lifetime; most of those well-kept and safe in Asgard, but also some on travel, hiding, tricking, hunting and battling, so he would never have described himself as inexperienced…or naïve.

He knew what could happen to you if you were not careful on battlefield. He knew what your enemies might do to you if they got their hands on you. He knew his body well enough to know what he could suffer through…or so he had thought.

In the deepest, darkest corner of Asgard's dungeons, with his back burned and blood running down his arms, Loki found out that he did not know anything.

Like, for example, he would never have imagined that he could come to the point where he would have done everything, _absolutely everything_ , just to be allowed to scream.

Loki made a small sound in the back of his throat as something searing touched his hip. His breath came as sharp, ragged pants from behind the offending muzzle that suddenly felt much, much heavier than before. He could barely lift his head anymore...not that he wanted to.

What they were doing was bearable, but that did not mean he had to watch. Smell and feel was bad enough.

There was a sharp hiss as the blood covering…well, whatever they were using on him right now, Loki did not know for he had closed his eyes some time earlier...vaporized when it met the heat of the fires burning at the chamber's sides. Just the ugly sound promised worlds of pain.

Still, the pain was not the horrible part about this. This was not about pain, they were holding back.

Around the place where he was hanging in his ties, half-naked and perfectly open for the torturer's work, stood five of Asgard's most powerful magicians – only three of them female, so much for magic being "a women's skill only" – their eyes closed and their hands raised, palms facing inward.

They were neither restraining him, nor binding his magic – the shackles were doing both already and good – but trying to break down the walls protecting his thoughts…and eventually, subdue his mind.

Before he had been strung up here, they had explained to him what they wanted from him…and well, maybe he was not ready to do everything, because he would not do what they asked of him.

All he had to do, one of them, some tiny blond thing with cold eyes and a sneering voice, had told him, was to let them take over his mind. And then she had grinned at him and said: "But well, you know how this works, right? You have got some experience with mind-control, after all."

Loki, not able to answer, had simply stared at her with all the defiance he had.

So that was it what Odin had meant? They would treat him like he had treated the archer and the man of science on Midgard, making him their puppet?

He would never let that happen. _Never._

They had tried to break him just with the strength of their own minds and magic, but Loki fought back with skill and a feral brutality that was impossible for them to counter. So they had used other methods, more specifically, they had placed him into the trustworthy hands of Asgard's torture masters.

Not as punishment for resisting, Loki was clever enough to understand that even before they started slashing, beating and burning him. The pain was only meant to distract him, to break his concentration.

It had no finesse at all. Typical for a world honoring only brute strength. Unfortunately, it was also effective.

"Are you really so unwilling to accept your punishment? That is disgraceful, Loki."

A hand tore at his hair, pulled him backwards against the other man's body. The chains reached their limit and the cuffs jerkily slid over the already torn skin of his wrists, scratching them further open and sending a fresh, hair-thin line of blood down his arm. Loki heard a shaky whimper, but he did not quite process that it came from him.

"You shame your whole family with your cowardice."

Additionally to the pain, the torturer's reek of sweat, ale, metal and pipe weed filled his nostrils and the combination made him sick. He started to heave and forcefully tried to stop himself, get his body back under control.

_Do not get sick,_ he reminded himself _. If you get sick…if you just start to cry…you might suffocate. You know that they will probably not take the gag of. They will use it to frighten you._

He held his breath and forced his muscles to relax. The grip on his hair tightened and the man shook him slightly, but the moment was over. He was still unyielding and he might be imagining it, but when he spoke again, the man's voice seemed to have a disappointed undertone.

"So you will not stand up for the crimes you committed? You will still not give in and pay your penance?"

It hurt, but Loki managed to shake his head jerkily.

"You are viler than any of us would have believed," he said and Loki crazily found it funny to be reprimanded by somebody who earned his food humiliating and hurting others. He hacked out stuttering breaths and there was no mistaking it for anything else than what it was: laughter.

"You are insane." That sounded almost fascinated. "Without conscience or mind. You are truly no citizen of Asgard, you are but a monster."

He was shoved roughly and the next moment, accompanied by a rough chuckle, something that might be a belt or a whip struck over his back – not very hard, almost absent-minded - but the words hit him harder anyway. Had it been coincidence or a calculated taunt?

What if it was _not_ coincidence that they used heat and fire to hurt him more than the other tools they surely had?

Loki's thoughts drifted away for just a moment, but that moment was enough. Like an electric shock, he felt one of the magician's consciousness brushing his and he was already scrambling to strike back when he heard the woman's voice whisper.

"Does it scare you how close he got to the truth, Laufeyson?"

The shock was like nothing he had ever felt before He froze, frantically looked for the speaker…and found the blonde thing looking at him with open disgust, magical energy flickering between her fingertips in her try to overpower him.

Loki only managed to stare at her, blending out the rest of the room…and paying no heed to the others. The walls were cracking, but it seemed unimportant compared to the fact that there was somebody else who knew and whom else had they told? Did Asgard already know, laughed behind his back?

And than there was a red-hot iron pressing against his spine. Loki jerked forward and the magicians used their chance when the last bit of Loki's concentration slipped fully, his resistance crumbled and crashed and he dropped into darkness.

* * *

Thor had practically begged his father to postpone the fest, but had been denied his wish. Apparently, it was necessary to show people that he was still unbeaten; that he could win even against a completely unknown force.

That he was a worthy heir to the throne.

He hated it, did think it inappropriate, but if he had been able to endure the feast right after he had supposedly lost his brother without destroying the hall, he could also go through this. He could smile and drink and tell stories and be merry all night.

After having emptied a whole of six goblets practically in one go, Thor was storming away from the table; fingers clenched and face hard.

It was not even that somebody had said something to anger him. It was just that he was worried and agitated and now he felt as if he would suffocate if he did not get some air immediately.

The guards positioned at the entrance doors stared at him uncertainly as he passed them. Thor's mannerisms had gotten a lot better, but everybody remembered his tantrums all too well, therefore, the voice of the man asking "My prince?" was a little shaky.

Thor took the time to growl: "Not now!" before rushing down the corridor.

On his way, nobody else dared addressing him. It might have been from respect, but Thor knew better: For the first time since his banishment, he was almost glad for his former impulsiveness.

And just like back then, he let his steam off by demolishing whatever got in his way.

When he had reached the door leading out to one of the castle's many balconies, he tore off the heavy bolt and carelessly let it drop before he threw the door open with all his power. The wings crashed into the walls on either side, bounced off and swung wildly, just to be smashed shut again behind him by the raging storm.

At the table, Sif and the Warrior's Three exchanged glances stuck between worry and exasperation.

Fandral was the first to speak up. "Every time you think he finally has managed to get himself under control..." He broke off and gestured towards the way Thor had taken moments ago.

Volstaag eyed the clean plate at Thor's former seat. "He has not even eaten. Just dunk a lot, and very fast."

"Well, of course he has. Thor has always drunk too much and went on rampages when something distressed him." Fandral lowered his voice to a whisper. "And I would say Loki's performance today does count as 'distressing'."

Hogun sighed, refilled his goblet and chugged it down. "Someone should go and talk to him before he breaks anything important. Or anyone important."

Nobody moved. The three man's eyes wandered over to the only women in their group. Sif endured the urging looks for a minute, then sighed and stood up. "Fine. I'll go."

She turned to fast to see her friends' gratitude, turned fast to hide the nerves showing on her face. All of them knew how difficult Thor could become and until last year, there had been someone else to calm the Thunder God down, to talk him back into reason, to get him to focus onto something else.

_No reason to dwell in the past_ , she told herself. _See it as a new challenge._

Still, she was getting more nervous with every step (and a little angry with herself – who got scared about facing their own dearest friend?), and her anxiety grew all the more when she had to lean herself against the dented doors with all her strength to compete against the raging winds outside, but the scenery behind them let her forget all former worries.

Thor stood with his back turned towards her, his fingers closed tightly around the rail. His blonde hair and the red cape, both flying wildly, were the only patches of colors before the dark grey storm clouds swallowing up every ray of the evening sun usually illuminating the golden city splayed out far under them.

Sif had gotten over her crush on Thor. In moments like this she remembered why she had to get over it in the first place.

"Sif," Thor greeted her without turning. "You should be at the feast."

Sif gave him a wild smile that he could not see, but unquestionably hear in her voice. "Well, so should you. It is given for you, after all."

A streak of lightening illuminated the clouds' rims in bright blues and whites, the following thunder was loud enough to make even her wince, but despite what Sif knew to be a show of anger, Thor's voce was collected.

"I know," he said. "But I do not wish for merry company tonight. I don't think I have calmed down enough yet, the battle is still close and my mind is not yet set for rest. I would be best if you returned to the table and enjoyed the night, Sif."

Thor didn't hope for one moment that this would be enough to ease her worries, but maybe it was enough to stop her from asking. Sif knew him well enough to know why he was upset. On the other hand, she was stubborn.

And also shockingly blunt. "Do you know what your father has planned for Loki?"

Thor sighed and let his shoulders drop in defeat. "I know what he has planned only to a certain degree. Admittedly, I…don't know enough about magic to really understand what he will do to my brother. I do understand that it will be…horrible for him and…"

Thor broke off, contemplating. Sif walked to his side to have a better look on her friend's unusually sinister face and seeing her worry, he felt all dams break.

"I…I fear for his sanity, Sif. Loki's mind is fragile at best and such a hard punishment might worsen him. It might rile him up against us even more. I know that my father tries to do what is best for my brother, but still, I fear for him. I fear that there might be no cure for his hatred."

By now, the lightning and thunder had subsided, but the winds raged on and Sif started to shiver in the dress she wore this evening. The metallic ornaments got cold and the fabric was too thin. Still, she refused to leave Thor's side.

"Thor, you must trust in your father now. He knew what to do with you, he will know what can help him. You cannot do anything right now. Come back in with me and forget your worries for a while."

Thor looked at her finally nodded. As his father had said, he should be in there, gloating about his victory and soothing everybody's minds. He smiled at Sif and stepped in front of her to hold the door open, walked beside her and slowed his steps to match hers.

They did not talk, even though Thor could practically hear all the questions she didn't know how to ask.

Only at the entrance door, Sif gathered all her courage together, stopped him with a hand on his chest and asked him the one question that all of them had been asking themselves since the trial.

"Do you know what he meant with all this talking about liars and monsters?"

Thor looked at her and thought about the way she had stopped calling Loki 'your brother' ever since the Destroyer-incident, the hatred in her voice when she had heard what he had done, the anger in her eyes when she had first seen him again. The way she had tried to comfort him after he had announced Loki dead, how she had always been there for him, fought with him, laughed with him, followed him always.

"No. I do not know what he was talking about, I'm afraid."

He felt horrible about lying to them, but somehow, he managed apologize to them for just running away as he took his place again and when he could still see the worry on all their faces, he made it his task to make their night worth the while.

Thor hid his bad mood behind a wide, merry smile and grand gestures as he re-told the battle against the Chitauri that had taken place between the incredible high buildings of stone and steel and glass in the city the humans called 'New York'. He spoke of the miraculous transformation of Banner into the Hulk, the Captain's honor and determination, the assassins' unmatched skills and the wonders that were Stark's technology.

He did never mention Loki, not with one word.

If anybody noticed, they did not mention it. Neither did anybody ask for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have some chapters in store, so I'll update pretty regularly for now; I hope someone appreciates the pace^^  
> I know, the part with Thor and Sif is a little...slow, but I swear, just one more chaper of 'neccessary background', then we head for some action!
> 
> As always, I appreciate reviews and constructive critics.


	3. In Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a lot of death and some violence. Don't like, don't read!

He had never seen the room before and he never wanted to see it again.

The walls and floor were polished stone, caved with gently glowing, golden runes winding over the walls in disturbing, hypnotizing spirals, coiling around and crossing each other on the way from the ceiling over walls and floor.

In the middle of the room, a thigh-high, rectangular stone rose seamlessly from the floor, polished to perfect smoothness. From the middle in height, nine sharp-edged golden poles spouted from each side of the stone, reaching three to four feet up, curling outward with their tips pointing to the stone's middle.

To Thor, they looked like the ribcage of some huge animal, covered not by flesh and skin, but by a layer of magical energy running from edge to edge and tip to tip, very loosely enclosing Loki who lay unconscious on the slab

The soft glow hit his face from every direction and erased every clear shadow from Loki's face, pronouncing the bruising along his jawline and making him look waxy and sick. He looked like he was on the verge of death.

Then again, his eyes moved rapidly beyond closed lids, his breath was a little uneven – deep, yes, but uneven - and occasionally, his fingers would flinch, just as if he was having a very vivid dream.

In a way, he was and that thought was disconcerting.

"Are you sure that this is right?" he asked his father for the thousands time.

Odin sighed and when he answered, his voice sounded a little exasperated, but not angry.

"Thor, I know that you worry for him. I do, too. But Loki tried to commit horrible crimes. If he had succeeded, I would have had to sentence him to death. This must be an effective deterrent to stop him from ever trying something like this again and it must work."

Thor's shoulders slumped. He knew that his father was right, but still…it seemed cruel.

"Therefore," Odin continued, "Loki must understand what he has done to the people he attacked. What pain and grief he has caused. He must learn compassion. This is the only way to teach him."

Thor nodded sullenly. The explanation seemed logical and that was frustrating. Everything about this situation was frustrating. His fingers found Mjölnir's handle – he would not try anything here, but he took some comfort from it.

Admittedly, he also enjoyed the way the magicians' eyes nervously flickered over his hand and face.

After they had sounded so horrible smug while explaining him what they were doing, he hoped they would fear him a little. Not wanting to have to answer to him would maybe urge them to do their work right.

This procedure was effective, but also dangerous – had Thor known the right terms, he might have compared it to a difficult brain-operation. One wrong move could send Loki too deep into a hallucination, could lock him there. One wrong move might destroy his mind forever.

"I think we have seen enough." Odin could see how close his son was to say or do something stupid and decided to intervene. "You did your work well until now. We will leave you to it now."

Thor's head snapped around to look at him in angry disbelieve.

He could not imagine that his father would let him see this and then ask him to simply leave his brother alone here, in dark and cold and with those smug strangers who actually seemed to enjoy causing his little brother pain…

Except, he could imagine well.

"Father, can I not…" he tried weakly, but Odin had made his decision and he knew it.

"No. You would only be in their way, disturbing their concentration. Not to mention that your presence might lead Loki out of his trance and back here before the lesson is fastened."

Tor nodded in defeat and began the way back up to daylight, leaving his brother behind to memories of the pain, fear and grief that had raged on Midgard as he had let his army loose on it, hoping that Loki would learn his 'lesson' as fast as possible.

He was all too aware that he might lose him should he not.

* * *

He didn't know what was happening around him.

There was noise and fire, people running and screaming in panic and terror, all of them running for cover and pushing and shoving each other in their stampede. With all the gray dust covering them, they looked like figures in some video game.

He was running with them, panic making him faster than he had ever been.

Panic also made him headless and when he actually reached the line of police vehicles, it was from luck. He looked around, not actually seeing anything, when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him into another direction.

"Underground! Go underground, into the subways!"

He saw a flash of blue and red and white when this hand shoved him forward. Mindlessly, he followed the barked order, stumbled towards the subway, but once there, he was shoved and pushed around and he stopped, seeing clearly for the first time since this had started.

There were too many. Too many people, all of them hysterical and blind with horror and fear and all of them tried to get into the too-small entrance.

Right in front of his eyes, an elderly woman tripped and fell onto the stairs. Just a moment later, a group of teenagers trampled over her back, not hesitating for a moment.

He turned and sped forward again, deciding to take shelter in one of the office buildings instead, somewhere where he wouldn't be trampled to death. He had almost made it…and then, some of those alien-aircrafts saw the crowd and thought it an easy target.

Blue streaks flew, blasting holes into the crowd and the concrete. The screams became louder, even more hysteric, almost completely drowning out the sounds of their aircrafts. Almost.

He could hear the one approaching. It was lower than the others. He could see the energy building in the weapon's muzzle and he knew that he would not life.

The impact sent him flying and when he hit the concrete, he could no longer breathe. His chest burned horribly. There were screams and cries and a smell like burned meat. Then…blackness.

* * *

_Deep inside, Loki knew that it was not him running around in the streets of Manhattan, fleeing from the Chitauri, scrambling for shelter like rats when the cat landed in their middle._

_He could even feel the stone, his body weight uncomfortably squeezing the burns on his back against the hard surface. He could feel the ache in his jaw where the muzzle had bruised it. The scratches around his wrists._

_He was laying. But on the same time, he was running._

_He felt the human's steps and stops, no, he was the human running and hiding, ducking and jumping up, seeing the streak rushing in to end his life. The fear and helplessness. The shock and horror._

_Deep inside, with the very core of his mind, Loki fought._

_The rest of him,_ _wounded and terrified, stormed through the streets of Manhattan, scrambling for shelter like a rat when the cat landed close to it._

* * *

Three days after Thor's and Loki's arrival on Asgard, the magicians exchanged a worried glance.

They were not feeling the physical and mental experiences of the humans that they were sending Loki nearly as strong as he did. It was not comfortable, but they could deal with it. It was not the problem.

The problem was Loki's continued refusal to surrender to them.

"Do you think he could wake up?" one of the men asked lowly. His body was drenched with sweat from the exhaustion.

"Only if we stop," was the immediate answer.

They rose their hands – now glistening with sweat - leading their magic into the spells written all over the walls and floors. The membrane surrounding their prisoner flickered, their different auras snaked their way around the sharp poles, winding into it.

Unnoticed by all of them, Loki's fingers twitched toward the poles before falling limp again.

* * *

The next one was a man, who ended up cowering in a tunnel, crying and wishing he had gone with his wife to visit her parents instead of telling her that he had to work. He knew that he might never see her and his children again and the thought that they had argued….it was too much to bear.

Another man, looking not for shelter but for his beloved girlfriend, only to find her already dead. He was completely devastated: The Chitauri's weapons had practically blown a hole into her stomach. She had been pregnant.

Then a woman - young, barely twenty – who shielded her already dead fiancé with her own body. She couldn't process it, didn't realize how hard she was crying. She shook him, called his name, the shock made her blind for her surroundings, even when shards fell down on them like rain.

A girl, about ten, watching her mother being killed by a wild shot. Her big brother clutched her tight when she tried to run to her, held her while she cried, not able to believe, to understand….

A man again, locked in his car. The fuel had caught on fire and now, the flames crept closer and closer while he, full of terror, struggled to get out of the safety belt pinning him down. He was screaming. Pleading when the heat reached him, but neither flames nor safety belt listened.

And then came dozens, dozens of dozen more.

* * *

_And Loki was everywhere with them._ _In the tunnels. In the buildings. On the streets. In the crowd, getting pushed and squeezed. He was there,_ _ **was**_ _ **them**_ _, experienced their fear and pain. Their deaths. Not before long, a tiny part of him was pleading, too, but he did not stop to fight._

_Loki had a plan._

_Well, more an idea. He knew, all he had to do was either to break their concentration – but that was impossible._

_So he went for the next best thing – he had to re-connect his mind with his body. He had to find himself again._

_And until he managed to, he endured._

* * *

Hours later, Loki was getting closer to the surface.

Once, his eyes had even flickered open. All of them knew, they would not be able to hold him much longer.

So they did the only thing they considered right: They send one of the women, the one who was more exhausted than the others, to inform the king. The rest of them gathered their strength and activated the next memory.

The explosions and shots were deafening. Shards had cut through his thin soles. His legs were painfully cramped, hard as stone.

Still, he was running on full speed.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Stark Tower and the portal in the sky, spewing out more of those shooting things. While he was looking, his foot got caught in some hole in the street. He stumbled jerkily forward, his free hand flayed wildly to keep balance.

His other hand tightened around the small body of his daughter, Anne, thrown over her shoulder, fingers digging into indulgent flesh.

The girl gave a howling, high-pitched cry that hurt in more way than one, but h had no time for that now. He had to get off the street. Get her home. Now.

Anne continued to cry, an inhumane, screeching wail, tiny hands clawed into the back of his shirt, somewhere clinging and pushing. His hands tightened even more. He knew he was hurting her, but he had to keep her safe.

_Loki felt as if he was being torn into two._

_He saw the street and felt the girl's body, but at the same time, he saw a membrane of magic and the ceiling behind it. Loki's hand moved, painfully slow, but it did._

_Now, he was not only driven by determination, but also by rising panic. He feared to know what would be coming next and he absolutely did not want to see it._

_The only thing he wanted less was to feel it._

Thy were two blocks away when a bunch of golden alien vehicles rushed down the street. He stopped, looked up in absolute horror and for a moment, he thought he could see something different.

Between the gray and gold of the aliens, there was a figure on one of the vehicles that looked human. He saw green fabric – a cape? – flying in the sharp wind…then they all fired.

The cars in front of him exploded in a red-and-white blaze. A searing pressure wave hit him, knocked him off his feet…and he lost his grip on his daughter. He tried to grope for her even while falling, but all he got was dress's hem, a piece ripped out and then she was gone.

_His fingers found the pole, felt the sharp edge. With an incredible effort, he closed his hand around it, pressed down…._

He sat up and looked for Anne and when he saw her, his life ended.

She was on her stomach, her head twisted to the side in an unnatural angle. The cheek facing up was smooth, the other one covered in abrasions. Brown hair fanned over it, singed, but not burning. Her dress, pink, decorated with yellow flowers, was hitched up to the middle of her thighs. There was a bow just above her waist, a big flower right in the middle.

Above that, her back was a burnt, black-and-red mess of fabric and skin all charred and melted together. Her smoldering shoulder blades stood out like white thorns, smoking with heat.

… _.and he pulled it upwards._

_Sharp pain shot through his palm, and suddenly, his body was his own again._

_Loki awoke with a start, gasping and coughing, but not strong enough to sit up yet. His bleeding hand was still clenched, widening the wound, but he could not let go._

_He was not strong enough to scream, either, but that did not stop him from trying and when he did try, the pain in his hand was not the only reason._

* * *

When Odin came into the room, Loki was already sitting up.

Even in the dim light, he could see the sheet of sweat on Loki's haggard features, the trembling of his hands. The light shirt they had clothed him in was rumpled and hitched up a little, revealing an angry red burn on his hip.

He looked weakened and exhausted and he already felt a glimmer of hope…and then, Loki looked up and their eyes met.

"Allfather." His voice shook, but the mocking tone was still unscathed. "You look weary."

Loki took a moment to let Odin remember where he had last heard those words, then he began to laugh, a slightly hysteric, high-pitched chuckle.

Behind this mask, he was shell-shocked. Had he just had something in his stomach, he knew he would have thrown up the moment he had woken up, but like this, he only tasted some bile. Still, he felt horrible, hurting, sick…desperate.

When he was desperate, he wanted to hurt.

Even Odin himself recoiled from the wild mix of emotions raging in his adoptive son's eyes. He could see understanding beginning to dawn, but there still was too much hate.

"After all of this, you still long for fight and war, Loki?" he asked and was rewarded with a toothy grin.

"You will never break me. I will never give in."

Odin hesitated. He could overpower Loki's mind himself this time, throw him back into the human's memories, but he feared that a direct attack would leave his son hating him even more. He thought about trying to let Thor talk to him, but they would only end up fighting again.

And then, he got to another idea.

Loki longed to be feared. To be in the center of everybody's attention.

Sighing, he raised Gungnir. Loki coiled warily, looking ready to jump. He was not sure if his...if _Odin_ would attack him now. Honestly, he had no idea what he would do should it get that far.

Once again, the spear touched the ground. Golden light filled the room.

The last thing he heard before he sank into mercifully dreamless darkness was Odin's voice in his head, whispering without any expression.

"You will have time to think that over."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And cut! Another chapter done!  
> Ah, you didn't need to worry, people, Loki doesn't break that easily! He's far too stubborn to. Still…I got my ideas of what to do to him next, and I hope you'll all be with me!  
> Once again, I apologize, I literally wrote this from break to break, but still thought I could experiment a little by throwing in Loki's split perspective…well, never mind. Next time, we'll have a look on the rest of the bunch, see what they did while Loki is doing time in Asgard.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! As always, constructive critic, ideas and speculations are welcome!  
> Lots of Love,
> 
> Yours KandyKitten


	4. Who Would Have Thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind reception!   
> No warnings necessary this time...  
> Enjoy, dear readers!

_~eleven months post-Chitauri~_

There were many good things that came from working with SHIELD, Tony told himself.

There was the fact that they paid for the property damage when they smashed men and things into cars and walls and such and for the hospital fees when they got smashed into cars and walls and such.

All the super-secret stuff he could get into his fingers now – the kind of stuff so secret there were no more copies anywhere else on the world. The defensive upgrades he build for the Helicarrier when he was in the mood to get his hands dirty.

They cleared Bruce's name, in the public as much as in the military, got him off the wanted-lists and kept Ross and his over-eager Hulkbuster units from attacking him.

Still, no matter how hard he tried to remember all those things, flying after a tiny, unimportant, stupid thief and his jet-powered car in the heaviest rain-and-hail-storm the whole state had seen in five goddamned years could dampen even his usually always good and generous mood. Especially when their god was on the wrong planet to re-route said storm for a while.

The Com-Link sprung alive with an unusual, sharp crack. "You got clear sight, Stark? 'Cause honestly, I can hardly see past my freaking nose-tip."

Tony chuckled and blinked against the water and ice hammering against his visor.

"Call every tabloid – that'll make page one." Internally, he winced - even the Com-Link suffered the storm's effects, half of what he said or heard went under in the crackling static. It was like using old walkie-talkies.

"Figure of speech, Stark," came the deadpan answer.

"You sure? Cause, you know, I'm a rich man and all, I could get you glasses. Or maybe binoculars, if you like that better. Do you want me to buy you binoculars? Because that can be arranged."

"Do you want me to shoot an arrow in your ass? Just, you know, 'cause that can be arranged."

Tony could perfectly hear Clint's smirk despite all the white noise and he laughed in response. He loved to banter with JARVIS, but it was kind of refreshing, too, to bicker with somebody else during a fight.

Especially because it had a rather amusing side effect.

His continued babble annoyed the crap out of his fellow teammates and especially out of one certain brawny guy with the world sight of an ninety-year old and higher moral standards than a hardcore nun.

And today, everybody's nerves were already frayed, so Captain Steroid's lecture voice already held the tense undertone that usually only came out after at least fifteen minutes of Tony Stark's Patented Nonstop-Talk™.

"This is no joke, so at least try to focus and pull yourselves together."

"What?" He made it sound like a high-pitched whine. "'No joke'? Captain, there is a two-bit thief in a car looking like she's been built form Quinjet-scrap playing a game of fetch with us in a hailstorm. I'd say that's right out of a comedy."

Roger's groan marvelously mixed with Clint's bark of laughter and Natasha's incredibly loud silence. Rain or no rain, this was starting to get fun.

"Stark…"

And there it was, all the righteous anger of heaven and earth compressed into one word. Damn, how…provoking.

"Seriously, it's like Fury ordered this weather just to make our job harder," he cut Rogers off.

"Maybe he did. Would explain why Thor isn't here," Clint muttered half-aloud, but the mirth in his voice was fading into concentration. Their connection was getting better, too, apparently they were closing in on the bend where he was waiting for them.

Tony let JARVIS zoom in on the two figures speeding down the road under him, one broad and one slim, both leaned deep over their bike's handles and honestly wondered how they could follow the car, let alone see the street.

"Stark, do you have visual?"

"Why so formal, Captain? I thought we were close enough to skip the military crap." He zoomed in even closer, but still couldn't see a reaction. Pity.

Hearing, he could pretty good. If the breathed growl actually came from Rogers, that was.

"Stark. In your free time, you can be every bit as annoying as you want. But during missions, for god's sake…"

Tony rolled his eyes, remembered that Rogers couldn't see it and gave a loud, exaggerated sigh instead. "Don't get your skintight panties in a twist, Cap. JARVIS's got him."

"Good." Natasha's voice was cool and professionally collected, as always, what was admirable, considering she, too, had to yell over static and her bike's roar. "There's a crossroad coming up, is he taking the right way?"

Tony tore his gaze away from his teammates and let JARVIS put the fleeing vehicle on the screen instead. The round jet shifted and the car, which wheels and seams looked ominously strained by now, moved to the left.

"In a moment, he will be."

He felt a slight push when the rockets loosed themselves from his right shoulder. Just a moment later the asphalt tore open in a half-circle and the car severed wildly, went in an dangerous drift around the right-hand bend, gaining speed on the long, plain stretch behind it.

Tony slowed down. The motorcycles did, too. The car got faster…

A thin, lightning-fast silver line cut through the rainy veil from above and the jet at the car's rear sputtered and died down. High above them, on the hill on the left hand, Clint stood up and lowered his bow.

Tony smirked. Mission complete.

* * *

"According to my calculations, the life-support systems would not withstand, Sir."

"It has to be manageable somehow." Tony drummed his fingers against armor's chest plate momentarily fastened on his table, mimicking the hammering drum's rhythm. "It's not like we're talking about flying to the end of the Universe and back. Neptune would be enough, for starters."

"Very modest plans indeed, Sir."

Chuckling, Tony turned back to the screens. There was no way around it: His armor still was no space shuttle. And that was not acceptable.

"Eh, don't worry, Jarvis. We solved every other problem, we are going to solve this."

There was no response, but it was not necessary anyway. He had already started typing away and from the corner of his eyes, he could see JARVIS going back to work. If you could have anything in common with an AI, then their similarity was their ambition. Making possible what everybody else…well, maybe every boy…dreamed of.

Right now, this boy dreamed of space travel.

Thankfully, he had had a lot of free time during the past month. The less dangerous villains seemed to lay low lately, the more dangerous ones were mostly caught – sure, there had been some rumors concerning Mystique, but nothing had happened so far.

Or maybe, Fury was just still angry about him and Steve getting half a block covered in sewage when they had been too busy bickering to keep an eye on their opponents.

Well, whatever it was, it didn't seem like Fury was about to call them back into…

"Sir? Incoming call from SHIELD Director Fury"

He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but the AI sounded horribly smug. Sometimes he could have _sworn_ JARVIS knew his thoughts.

He considered ignoring it, then he sighed. "Jus' one moment, Jarvis." He turned the music down and either shut down every screen and 3D model or hid them behind screensavers, just in case. "Fine, put him through."

"About time, Stark!"

Tony twisted the screen showing the director's face towards himself and offered a mock salute. "Morning, Captain Patchy. Any reason for…."

"I need you to come in immediately," Fury cut him off in a tone sharp enough to snap even Tony's mood form slightly annoyed teasing to full alert. "I fact, I need a full assembly, so bring Banner and Thor. SHIELD facility three."

Tony frowned. "How do you know..."

"Five minutes, Stark!"

Fury already turned away while hanging up. A little dumbfounded, Tony stared at the now completely black screen, but anger wouldn't come. Not even annoyance. Actually, he was more worried – this tone he didn't hear often. "Jarvis, save our effort…on my personal servers only, please. Oh, and tell the others to meet me at the garage."

"Of course, Sir."

He would have liked how Fury knew Bruce and Thor were here, especially considering he had protected the tower against every form of intrusion, be it personal or digital.

He would also have liked to know how much the superspy knew about the nature of their stay.

He wasn't sure why, but he liked the thought of keeping the CT-scans and blood samples they had taken from Bruce and Thor – one man the Hulk, the other man an alien, who would not be tempted? – and the comparisons with human tests secret. As secret as his suit's machinery, hopefully.

Witch reminded him…

"And while you're at it, prepare the Mark VI," he added, making his way to the elevator. Too bad he had taken Mark VII apart for his experiments, seeing as it had been the only one that had seen a flight into open space before.

"As good as done, Sir."

And JARVIS held whet he promised: Tony finished putting on his suit just in time with Banner entering. Thor followed up behind him, looking more confused than worried.

Bruce stepped up to him, unconsciously wringing his hands. "What's with the rush?"

Tony shrugged, the motion now accompanied by a high mechanic hum. "Fury didn't say. Did sound pretty serious, though."

"Where are we being called to?" Thor asked him.

"Facility three," Tony told him and when Thor still looked clueless he added:" One of SHIELD's quarters at the edge of town. They've got something to show us, I guess." He turned back to Bruce. "How are you getting there?"

"I'll drive." He sounded a little hasty, but that was all right, considering the last time he had tried to make Bruce fly with him.

"Do what you have to," he grinned. "Coming?" Thor grinned back and nodded, both of them taking position to start while Bruce made his way over to the several bikes and cars, keys swinging from his fingers.

"We'll tell you what's what when you arrive…see you in an hour!"

Bruce called something after him, but he couldn't hear it anymore over the rush of wind and the thrusters' uproar. He rose up like a rocket, spun around without waiting and sped north, taking course on SHIELD.

For the first time since six weeks, his mind was far away from space travel.

* * *

"Well then…Where's the fire?"

And look at that, Captain Perfect was the last one to come. Who would have thought?

Natasha threw Steve a glance and shook her head. "No idea. But it's got to be quite something; we were called here from a business-man-slash-big-dealer's party in Chile. _Directly_ from the party. We even had to leave our stuff in the hotel."

Tony grinned at her. "You were on a party in full-blown agent gear?"

The answer was an exasperated eye roll, pronounced by very dark lashes. Now that she had mentioned it – she was wearing unusually thick make-up. Maybe that was the reason she was the only one who did not look like a zombie in the unhealthy shine of neon lights and screens.

"Changed on the plane. I'm not going to fight…Doom in High Heels and a designer dress with no back."

"Doom?" Thor asked inquisitively. "Do you believe the Doctor Doom has escaped his confinements?"

"Well if it is Doom, then it's Richard's problem, right?" Tony scoffed. Now that Fury had let them wait for almost ten minutes, his worry was fading back into annoyance for being summoned like that. "I swear, if Fury made us rush here like crazy because of this annoying, megalomaniacal, ugly, two-bit villain who…"

"Well, Mr. Stark, good news is…"

Everybody turned around, but with varying degrees of surprise. Fury stood in the door that nobody had heard opening, posture loose, but with a certain agitated air surrounding him. Automatically, everybody straightened, too.

"…Doom is still right where he belongs. Bad news is that there's probably an even worse megalomaniac giving us trouble."

Natasha pulled one brow up. "Someone new?"

"Just follow me, please." Fury beckoned them to come with one finger, turned and marched back form where he came. The team exchanged glances, then Steve shrugged and took lead, following Fury down the corridor.

As soon as the door had slammed shut after them, the director took the word again. "Five weeks ago, I sent you to catch a man, a complete stranger, fleeing in a jet-car, but I don't think I told you why a simple thief required the Avengers, did I?"

"No, Sir." Tony would have said something himself, but the slightly demanding undertone in Steve's voice stopped him.

"It was not the man himself, but the things he stole. Information. And not just missile plans, either. Information on SHIELD, on the whole country's defense tactics and possibilities, blueprints of whole cities, research programs and information on the World Council, whom nobody who does not work for us should even know about in the first place."

"So a terroristic act," Steve concluded, but he sounded like he wasn't entirely convinced..

"That's what we thought. So we brought.."

"What would interest me most," Tony harshly interrupted him, "is how could he get to all this stuff in the first place? I mean, how bad _is_ your security?"

Fury threw him an angry look that might have looked more intimidating had Tony just stood at the side where the eye was.

"That's what we wanted to know. He was not on the security feeds and there was no intrusion detected in our servers and databases. So, we brought him in here for questioning."

To everybody's surprise, Thor asked: "Did you find your man helping him?"

Tony made a mental note. So Thor was just as convinced that SHIELD was less than corruption-free as he was…and a little smarter concerning tactic than he usually let on.

"Unfortunately, no." Fury paused to open the next door, leading right into another dim-lit, narrow corridor. He re-locked the door behind them before leading them further. "He wouldn't say anything, but there are only five people in SHIELD who have the possibility to get hands on all this, so we decided to search him on our own and tried to move him."

The next door, but this time, Fury didn't open it. He stood there, doorknob in his hand. A thin line of bright light cut through the semi-darkness.

"And that is when he suddenly tried to escape. Our men tried to stop him and one of them got him with his Taser. And _that's_ when.."

"Lemme guess…" Clint sighed. "That's when he suddenly developed superpowers, killed everybody in the way and now is wreaking havoc somewhere in town?"

"No, smartass!" Fury was positively glowering at his impolite, continuously interrupting team by now. "That's when he dropped dead."

Everybody exchanged a glance. Tony suddenly doubted that the Taser-story was true, thought about asking and decided he didn't want to know.

"And then the really interesting thing happened. When he was on the floor, there was some sparks, some blinking…and then his body began to change, revealing…"

He threw the door wide open. Behind it was a brightly-lit laboratory with white walls, blinking metal and chrome…and a table with something on it, something big and thin, gray and gold, long, thin arms and legs…

"…this."

It was dead, but the shock sat too deep for relaxation. Muscles tensed, hands found weapons, seven bodies took fighting stance.

On the table, already partially cut open, lay the limp body of a Chitauri.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, another chapter finished!
> 
> This chapter just didn't want to be written. No matter how I tried to approach the matter, somehow I always ended up writing a rough summery of relationships and hinted-at happening that occurred in the year that I skipped here.  
> So this is the version I go with now, a little intermission and jumping right into the problem in the end. I hope it works!  
> Hope, I got you curious, because we are closing in on the first confrontation…  
> I hope you all enjoyed!   
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten


	5. Of Liars And Preparations

With the – by now dry – dark, mazy inside visible in the hole that had been cut into its chest, surrounded by flaps of thick, gray skin hanging down its sided like dirty sheets, the Chitauri should have looked like a rubber puppet, a special effect from a bad movie, but it didn't.

It was real, threatening even in its death, and not one of them thought it might be a joke, not even before the smell reached them, disinfectant and something oily, bitter and rotten at the same time.

Fury let them gawk for a full twenty seconds before marching round them, positioning himself between them and the Chitauri, tapping the steel table once.

Normally, his sheer presence was enough to command the attention of everybody he wanted to brief – well, usually _lecture_ , admittedly – but maybe, the thing had moved a little at his tap, because suddenly, Bruce fingers were wringing so brutally his knuckles shone white, the repulsors glowed, weapons were half-drawn and Steve and Thor, the hand-on guys, actually each flinched half a step forward.

"It's…dead," he harshly informed them. "And we made sure it stays dead. So, to bring you up to date..."

He didn't get any farther, because the reservation broke the moment he spoke.

"Is that was I think it is?" Clint demanded, pointing at the partially dissected corpse. His finger and voice were steady, but there was anger overshadowing the usual deadpan-sarcasm.

Fury rolled his remaining eye, but he had the decency not to sigh.

"We…examined it and compared it to the data we had from the Chitauri that dropped dead here after you destroyed the mother ship. Even though there are - at least as far as we can tell - certain small differences…yes, it seems to be a Chitauri."

"And how did it get here?! I thought you were supervising the…the interdimensional borders or whatever the fuck you are calling it." Now, the anger was clearly overriding every form of humor, and Clint was visibly not the only one feeling that way.

"We…" Fury broke off again, searching for words, before growling: "We don't know. We did supervise every interworldly contact, everywhere, at every time. And I think you can guess what we found: the only contacts we did detect was _him_ and _only_ him coming or leaving."

Fury let the hand he had used to gesture towards Thor sink again and shook his head. "We have formed a Unit to go over the worldwide readings again, but so far…"

"You form…wait, wait, wait!" Tony lifted one hand, pointing an accusing finger at Fury's chest. " _So far?_ Just how long _did_ you know this thing is here?"

From one second to the other, the atmosphere in the room shifted.

The whole team had constantly been glancing at the corpse, as if fearing it would somehow come back alive. Now, everybody was staring at the director with a strange, suspecting wariness, not entirely void of aggression. Fury had lied to them one too many time for them not to be.

"Not long enough. I had time to call a few of my most..."

"Listen, I…I don't think I _want_ to know about your questioning techniques…" Bruce, who had been staying slightly behind, now slowly came forward. Apparently, he had gotten himself under control. There was no single trace of green in his eyes and his fingers were no longer trying to break each other.

"But you've had this guy for a little more than five weeks…and I think that's more than enough time to find out he wouldn't talk, you knew what he or, well, it was, at least for a week or two…"

Fury's expression was stony, but they knew him well enough to see a grimace by now.

"I know that we would not have been able to do much more than you and your guys did, you didn't necessarily need us to help you to try following that thing's tracks, so…."

He shrugged and put his fingertips together, a look full of innocent question plastered all over his face.

"…What changed?"

Despite everything, Tony felt a grin threatening to appear.

He could have hugged Bruce for this. No matter what equipment this man would mention next, he would buy it for him, hell, Tony would do it the rest of their lives just for the look he had just put on the Director's face.

"What changed is that there was another break-in." Fury did positively annoyed now. "We detected somebody trying to extract similar information as our friend on the table back there. He didn't get anything, but unfortunately, he also escaped."

"So there's another one," Natasha said, perfectly professional. "Or more."

"That's what we're fearing. And that's why we build this."

Fury walked straight through the room, towards the second door and threw it open. The Avengers followed, but slowly, torn between keeping an eye on the Chitauri and glowering at the Director.

The adjacent room was huge and bright, but it had a horrible impersonal flair with all the screen littering otherwise empty tables, and lining the plain walls, not to mention the dozens of Agents in either blue SHIELD uniforms or black suits.

Practically nobody paid attention to them, just two people separated themselves from the faceless mass of Agents buzzing around.

Hill looked reserved as always with her perfect hair and the stiff posture, back straight and hands clasped behind her back. The man walking in front of her was the embodiment of facelessness, with his regular height, face, haircut and well-tailored suit.

Considering what had happened to him about a year ago, Phil Coulson looked extremely well, even though he did walk a little…slumped, as he tried not to put too much pressure on his back.

"Agent Coulson!" For the first time today, Steve smiled. "I didn't expect you to be back in service already!"

"I'm not," Tony added, giving Coulson a shit-eating grin while patting on Steve's broad shoulder. "He's probably received some cell-recovery-treatment SHIELD developed extra for the case somebody got stabbed by an alien spear."

In fact, he was a little surprised. It had not looked well for Coulson, after all. But he was happy to see him back up on his feet – they all held no grudge at the agent.

Three weeks after beating the Chitauri, Fury had – after it had been clear that his agent would actually survive - finally come clean and told them that Coulson had survived Loki's attack. In fact, he had told them a few days after he had been able to breathe on his own again – still in a coma, but with good chances to wake up again.

It had come as a complete shock to all of them. Only his strict military training had kept Steve from punching Fury…military training Tony had not received.

He had been the only one to actually react physically, the rest of them were used to lying authorities, apparently, but not the only one to be royally pissed…even though they had been overjoyed to hear that their friend was still alive.

It had not done any good to their relationship with Fury, of course.

All of them, even Clint and Natasha, had drawn back from SHIELD after this episode. The trust between them, if it had ever really existed was practically broken – and this episode right now was not helping, either.

Coulson returned their greetings and offered them one of his thin smiles. "Well, according to the doctors, I should not be working, but I am not going to miss this."

"That's the attitude that'll win us the game!" Tony praised, shaking his fist like some overeager trainer. "Go on and show us your best work, player!"

"Mr. Stark, I'm desk-bound. I am _not_ unarmed."

Coulson led the chuckling Avengers over to his computer and let himself drop into the chair. It was an unfamiliar picture to see him sitting and suddenly, Tony worried a little – it was obvious that the wound had not perfectly healed by now.

He tapped a seemingly random sequence of keys and the screens lit up with charts and frameworks in different forms and colors.

"We looked for changes in the atmosphere, the magnetic fields, everything we know. But so far…nothing."

Tony frowned and switched on a very haughty tone. "If you have problems with abroad servers, you know I can change that."

We never have problems with abroad servers," Coulson said matter-of-factly. "But unfortunately, we don't know what we are looking for. We know practically nothing about the Chitauri."

"But we do know somebody who does," Steve suddenly piped up.

Everybody's eyes turned to him, some questioning, some suspecting…and then, understanding showed on everybody's faces. Clint looked particularly unhappy, his jaw and muscles tensed. Steve half-turned to look at Thor.

"Is there a chance we can talk to Loki?"

Thor suddenly looked uncomfortable, shifting a little. "Well, I do not know. I could ask, but nobody has talked to Loki after..."

"Wait…" Tony couldn't believe it. Thor, who had defended Loki even after taking Clint and Selvig, hadn't talked to him _at all_?

Well, thinking about it, Thor had only mentioned Loki twice since they knew him – once when they had asked him how he could bear Stark's constant jokes so easily and once when telling them (a little drunk, maybe) about how he had first landed on earth a few years ago - but otherwise…nothing.

So had he given up his crazy brother in the end?

"You haven't talked to him?" And then, a new thought hit him. "He isn't…do you have a death sentence in Asgard?"

"What…no, it is not like that!" Thor seemed honestly shocked. "Well, we do have a death sentence, but we are extremely careful with handing it out. Loki is alive still, it is just that…nobody has been allowed to visit, let alone talk to him since after the trial."

Now Steve looked a little disheartened. "So we probably can't have a few hours with him?"

Thor took a deep breath and shrugged. "If you want me to, I will ask if he can be transferred to SHIELD for a while, but I can promise you nothing. I do not have a say in this matter."

"We've got a situation here, so I suggest you ask!"

Fury, that sneaking, spying…spy. You really wouldn't expect a man of his size in a leather coat and a freaking eye-patch to be that good in listening in without being noticed, but somehow, all of them had missed him. Well, except for Natasha maybe.

Thor nodded. "I will."

"But you better find a safer place to hold him than last time," Clint growled into Fury's direction. His face was still expressionless, but he was tense as a bowstring, ready to strike.

In every other situation, Fury might have gotten angry, but now, he just let it pass. "I start searching for a good place to change into an interrogation room and you get going now. I think you know what to do next. And when you get word on Loki…" He pointed to the floor. "..first place to come."

The team hastily said goodbye Coulson and went without further fuss. As they passed the front doors of the faculty – a former military ground – Steve tapped Thor's forearm with the back of his hand. "When you get word on Loki…"

"I will come to you first."

"That's what we want to hear," Tony grinned and put his helmet back on, letting the faceplate snap shut "Good luck, Big Guy!"

So far, there was nothing more they could do, so they separated. But even while going their own ways, the feeling they had – this mixture of anticipation, dread, anxiety and excitement - was exactly the same.

* * *

From the outside, the abandoned factory building looked dirty, rusty and broken, a place that would host nothing but mold, snakes and rats as big as cats. Thick, high walls, topped with layers of rusty, but still mean-looking barbed wire surrounded the whole place. All in all, the factory was a perfect setting for a horror movie. A nobody-will-hear-you-scream place, as Tony immediately labeled it.

Absolutely nothing gave away the cluster of highly trained agents and most modern tech hidden inside.

After SHIELD had overtaken the factory, they had left their mark on it. Every piece of glass was bulletproof, there was surveillance everywhere and every single of the white walls in this maze was strong enough to withstand bombs.

And this was the place they had decided to hold Loki in.

Thor had come back almost two weeks ago, announcing that they could question Loki if they found a safe place to lock him into - and with the limitation, that, should he escape, he was their problem and theirs to catch.

The preparations had started immediately.

They had found themselves a laboratory, consisting of two rooms separated by a heavy door and a (now Hulk-proof) window pane, allowing to watch the locked-in test subject inside the smaller, door- and windowless room form a safe distance.

By now, there were more cameras than anywhere else. The walls, floor and ceiling of the quarter of the smaller room farthest from the pane was lined with thick, Hulk-proof glass. Somebody with a steady hand had etched the magical-in-some-way runes Thor had brought along into it.

A heavy steel frame with an inserted pane stood against the wall. As soon as the artist would be finished covering it in runes, too, the construction would be put into position, reaching from one wall to the other, thus completely closing the cage.

If that wasn't enough to keep the crazed demigod inside…

"And you are sure that will work without a door?" Hill asked once again. Annoyed, Tony let his head fall back against the wall. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the exasperation on Thor's face, too.

Sure, all of them had problems with accepting magic seemingly going against physical rules and all of them had voiced their worries to the Thunder God – everybody but Clint who, since he had heard that he would meet Loki again, had become uncharacteristically silent – but by now, it had become annoying.

"It will," Thor half-snapped, not in a tone he would usually use talking to a women.

"But how..."

"It's magic, lady." Tony told her before Thor could lose his patience and deep-fry something…or someone. "Accept, don't ask."

Hill looked affronted, but, thankfully, shut up. The fact that not even Steve jumped in to defend the woman's honor showed just how frayed their nerves were.

Ridiculous, considering it would be one locked-in man against a few dozen agents and a team of superheroes, but still…

The man sketching runes put the acid away and stood up. Faces tense, the Avengers watched the workers starting to shove the frame over, carefully measuring the right position. The edges met with a soft click.

Immediately, the second team of workers hurried over and fastened the steel frame against the walls.

The team threw each other glances, half-assuring, half-checking. They were as good as ready.

In less than fifteen minutes, they would face Loki again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody!  
> Thanks for reading, my fine friends! More than 20 kudos…yay! Thank you!
> 
> Hope you liked it so far…even though I'm still stuck in building up the settings.  
> Next time, we will finally find out what Loki has been doing the past thirteen month…and then, the meeting in chapter seven!  
> Still, I hope you will stay with me when we leave the build-ups and come to some action!
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten


	6. Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Wow, bit longer than I thought…  
> So, without further talk, I'll let you follow Loki through his new torments. Enjoy!  
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten

When Loki woke up, for a small second he could pretend that everything was all right.

He lay face-down on a bed, cheek nuzzled into a pillow and he could actually feel the edge of a light duvet covering him against his neck. He could tell that it was not _his_ bed - it was a little too hard – but for one moment, it was like waking up in a strange place when on some quest and any minute now somebody would snore or dash in to wake him…

And then he moved. Just slightly, but it was enough.

Searing pain shot through his back, so brutally and hot as if somebody had dropped a flaming blanket on him. Groaning in surprise, he buried his face and fingers in the pillow and waited until the pain had almost subsided, just concentrating on a few spots.

The places the torturers had burned him. So much for pretending.

This time, he was expecting the pain, but even though he moved as gingerly as he could, he still had to grit his teeth as he sat up to have a look at his new surroundings.

Just, there was practically nothing to look at.

The bed – or more, cot – he was sitting on stood directly against a wall and, by the look of it, was the only piece of furniture in here. The room itself was roughly quadrangular, nothing but plain grey stone surrounding him - no windows, no door. No source of light, either, but it was not entirely dark either, more like a greyish twilight.

On second look, there was something else. On the floor, roughly four feet away, stood a huge; bulbous jug filled with water.

Seeing it, Loki suddenly was very aware how dry his mouth was, the sickening taste of bile and copper on his tongue. He was not sure if his legs would already carry him, but he wanted the water.

Mindful of his back, he swung his legs over the bed's edge, set still bare feet on the cold stone and carefully pushed himself into a standing position. His knees still were weak, but somehow, he managed an inelegant stumble, thankfully dropping down next to the pitcher.

The water was fresh and cold and he had downed the first few sips greedily before the taste caught up with him.

Carefully, Loki sniffed the water…and there was something strange. He took another small sip, this time keeping it in his mouth. There was something wrong with the water, an unnaturally bitter taste...

It could be something to suppress the pain, it could be something to keep him asleep, it could be poison, it could by vitamins, to Loki, it all meant the same: Odin had put something into the only source of liquid he had.

He was close to screaming and even closer to throwing the offending object across the room, but Loki kept himself under control. The fact that he was still dizzy with sleep helped a lot - he was sure that he would not survive the humiliation if the pitcher did not hit the wall if he tried to throw it.

Still, Loki shivered with anger. Once again, Odin had just taken a decision from him, forced him to bend to his every whim.

This time, it would not work.

Loki began to push himself up when the smell of sweat and his own, burnt flesh hit him, his skin itched everywhere. Disgustedly, he looked down at himself and pushed his sleeve up.

Somebody had changed him into fresh clothes while he had been unconscious – grey, loose-fitting pants and a plain, V-necked tunic – but the dried blood and sweat still stuck on him, on his skin, his hair. He felt himself getting sick again…and then, his eyes found the jug.

Maybe the water would serve a purpose, after all.

It was not the right time for shame. Slower than he would have liked, Loki stripped down and cleaned the wounds, careful not to waste a drop. When he could no longer bear the stinging, he used the rest of the water to wash his hair.

When he was done, Loki felt better than he had expected. He got back up to his feet and made his way over to the wall next to the cot, carelessly kicking the empty jug aside just to make a point.

Letting his fingertips glide over the rough wall, he turned left and counted his steps until he had reached the cot's other end, then he stood there, eyes helplessly searching the dull room, roughly four by five meters of plain grey stone.

What next?

* * *

 

He was, by now, horribly bored. It had been weeks, as far as he could tell in this never changing environment, and there was absolutely nothing to do.

Loki sat on the bed, staring on his fingers. He focused, concentrated – here, the lack of distraction actually helped – visualized the picture…and let his hand flick forward and upward. He had not expected anything to happen, but he still could not shove away the slight frustration.

He had found out after the first fifteen minutes that his magic still was bound, even without the chains. Not even his illusions worked, but he still tried sometimes.

It kept his mind from wandering where he did not want to go and without any stimulation, it did too easily.

When he did not guard his thought, memories resurfaced, memories of shared laughs and laughs that were less shared than forced. The argument he had had with his… _Thor's_ friends, the one he had had with Odin. Falling through the broken Bifröst, being thrown in every direction, helplessly drifting before landing on a strange, unknown planet, bruised and hurt and desperate.

Meeting the Other, thee months later. Meeting Thanos. Leading this army….being the civilians.

Loki shuddered, jumped up and began to walk back and forth, like an animal in a cage. His hands pushed his hair back, that, since he had washed it, had been unruly, falling into his face and over his shoulders in a way that he was not used to.

The fast movements did not hurt too badly anymore, but by now, he wished they would. The pain had been a good method to ground himself.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the ceiling.

"Have you run out of ideas how to torment me?"

After weeks of silence, his own voice was shockingly loud. He grimaced in surprise, was almost thankful when the echo was gone…but he was too stubborn to stop.

"Or have your magicians exhausted themselves so thoroughly they still need time to recover before you can go on with your _punishment_?"

This time, he was prepared for the sudden noise. The answer he had hoped for did not come, though. There was nothing but silence and dull twilight.

"You will pay for this," he said, sounding thoughtful. "And when you have admitted what you have done before all of those haughty, stupid hypocrites, they will pay, too."

Darkness flooded the floor and the walls. Darkness with flickering lights, colors flashing by…the Bifröst. He was falling again…but he still felt stone under his feet. Now that they could no longer invade his mind, Odin…

The weapon's vault appeared on the walls. Odin stood on the stairs, staff in his hand, looking down on him….

_Thinking_ , Loki thought. _I am thinking about it and then…._

He closed his eyes and thought of nothing in particular, just fragments of spells and stories, melodies he was not sure where he had heard them. When he opened his eyes, the grey was back.

He would have to guard himself even more carefully from now on, Loki understood.

The only thing that could torment him here was his own mind.

Loki nodded to himself, making a silent promise. Nightmares, he could not control. But his own thoughts would not run away with him. Not as long as he still was breathing.

* * *

Loki had lost every sense for time and, in his eyes, a good part of his dignity.

In this all-time twilight, he never knew when it was night, so he lay down whenever he felt tired, but nightmares kept vexing him. He had always been able to suppress screams when he jolted awake, but after, he always just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, unable to find sleep for hours.

If it had been really bad, he stood up, walking circles in this tiny cage, sometimes trying to go through the motions his combat teachers had shown him.

He always had to stop soon, because he could not bear the thought of somebody seeing him fighting air like a child….a child with not even a stick to pretend having a sword.

And then there was the food.

Every now and then, there was a tray with food appearing right in the middle of the room. And the trey even held _good_ food, the kind of bread and flesh that was served at the banquets.

Loki's first reaction to it had been "Feed your scraps to your wolves, as I will never sink low enough to crawl for them."

He had been angry. Did Odin really think he could force him to eat leftovers off the floor like a dog?

Still, food came – monthly? Every second month? Without any time pattern? – anyway, it had come four times and every time, he had kept himself from eating. Until last time, that was.

Despite everything, last time he had taken a few bites, not much, but it was enough to make him feel disgusted with himself. He had been kneeling there feeding on what had most likely been the scraps from Odin's table.

He had sworn himself never to give in again, so when he felt the next meal being delivered, he did not even look up.

After what felt like half a day – it was two hours only, but Loki was tired and angry and frustrated – he stood up from where he had been leaning against a wall.

"Did it please you to see me kneeling?" he asked. "Did you laugh about how poetic it was? Did you feel satisfaction about seeing me taking my rightful position? Then let me tell you, Allfather, you will never see it again. In fact, I think one day, I will see you kneeling. I think one day, I will see everybody kneeling."

An image flashed through his mind, a crowd sinking to their knees before him, their eyes full of fear…and that image was enough.

Once again, the walls flared. Colors broke the dull grey, sound and smell were next, so overwhelming he stumbled away from them until he hit the wall.

There was the girl with the pink and yellow dress, laying at his feet. He could see every hair, every burn, every scratch, but he was enough of an expert to recognize and illusion when he saw one.

He rose his gaze and saw cruel things. Personal things. Arguments. Thanos grinning. Midgard. Odin. Frigga. Thor.

"Stop," he whispered tonelessly, but there was no mercy.

So it was not enough that the pain and fear and disappointment haunted him in his sleep, controlled his thoughts, no, it had to haunt him even with living imagines, with so much realism. It never left him alone.

Desperation weighed down on him so heavily he felt tears threatening to fall. He could not sleep, he could not talk to anybody, he could not use his magic to distract himself, he could only sit here and think of all this horror…and now, this.

Automatically, he raised his hand and tried to fire a streak of energy at the far wall hoping it would tear the imagery apart, but what released itself from his fingers was a dagger of pure ice.

Loki stared at the shards, imagines suddenly forgotten. The hand with the now obvious blue hue was still stretched out, as far as possible. His face showed pure loathing and disgust…

…and a tiny bit of curiosity.

* * *

Loneliness was becoming a real problem.

Loki sat on the bed once again, staring at the wall with unfocused, glassy eyes. His knees were pulled to his chest, underarms resting on them with his hands loosely hanging down. The long fingers of his right hand nimbly played with a piece of ice.

It was not perfect, but it was recognizable as a blade.

After his accidental success, he had started to test, and, to his surprise, found out that now that his magic continuously trying to change his body into that of an Asgardian was gone, his natural instincts were coming back to him.

As the color shift that almost wanted him to tear his own skin off whenever he saw it was a little more under control – by now, only his hands took on the despised blue - he had practiced with more interest and less (not without) self-loathing.

It kept his thoughts from wandering where he did not want them to go.

The outside world, for example. The times when he had had a brother and something akin to friends (had thought of them as friends, stupid, sentimental child that he had been).

When he had had contact with other living things.

Sighing, Loki shifted and focused on the blade in his fingers. His hard features twisted into a grimace of disgust and he threw it to the floor where it shattered into hundreds of glittering shards.

The sound hurt his head. He wanted somebody to talk to him.

There had been no more pictures on the walls lately, not even when he thought of Midgard. There was nothing, just himself, his thoughts and his nightmares and he did not care.

He should probably worry about this listlessness, but he did not have it in himself.

Lately, he did not have the strength for anything. Since he had been locked down here, his physic health had suffered as much as his mental.

He could not concentrate anymore. He could barely walk two rounds in his cell without getting dizzy. Sometimes, he felt so heavy he could not even stand up. Not that he wanted to, mostly.

Between his fingers, a blade appeared, shifting, becoming a curved knife, a miniature sword, a throwing dagger.

He just wished he were not so alone.

* * *

There was a breaking point for everybody and Loki reached his completely surprising.

One day, he awoke feeling desperate and restless and just overall….uncomfortable and when he opened his eyes and saw this grey not-color he felt something ugly raise its head.

He always felt unwelcomed feelings and thoughts scratching at the walls he had put around his mind, but they had never crashed against them like now. He looked around, trying to find distraction…

…the room was so small, smaller than ever, dark and tiny and he _could not breathe_ ….

Insanity was lurking just around the corner and he had no intention to let it overpower him.

Loki jumped to his feet, touched the wall and turned left. He slowly walked along the wall, from corner to corner like an animal in a cage checking its barriers, carefully measuring and counting his steps.

No, the room was just as big as it had been…..yesterday evening? Yesterday noon? Had it even _been_ yesterday?...whenever he had fallen asleep. Not smaller. Not by one inch.

He stood at his starting point, breathing a little too fast for his own liking. Here he was, halfway to hyperventilating over _nothing at all_. The Allfather would be pleased to see him like this, not only strolling back and forth like an animal as usually, but now getting hysterical, too.

His fingers shifted, trying to create a dagger, but today, it did nothing to ease the stress he felt. If possible, he felt even worse. He threw the half-done thing down, smashing it on the _uglyboringdull_ grey stone

For a few heartbeats, Loki just stood there with his chest heaving, staring through the veil his hair created in front of his eyes, feeling restless and angry.

He had to do something. Find distraction.

There was nothing to do.

He hissed, unconsciously moving, walking around, going through balance exercises, but everything just seemed to rile him. Especially the fact that they immediately wore him out.

The fact that he was losing his physical and mental strength was not new to him, but by now, it was a worryingly fast process and Loki had only one explanation for it: Odin must be draining his strength.

Loki had never – and, to be fair, Odin had neither – heard of deprivation. The Aesir had never bothered to study the impacts torture had on the victims as long as the results were satisfying, so he had no possibility to know that the solitude in itself, could damage a prisoner's body as much as their mind.

All Loki could know was that he was degenerating faster and faster.

Angrily, he walked back to his bed, threw himself on it face-down. His fingers clenched and he turned his head to bury his face into the pillow, trying to suppress the oncoming storm. He would not give Odin the satisfaction of seeing him unravel. He would not break down. They would never see him break down…he would never see him breaking down…

…if he could even see him.

Blue eyes, bright shimmers in the twilight, opened to stare at the grey wall.

The magic in the walls was meant to contain him, tie his own magic and to veil him from worried eyes. He had just assumed that Odin would be watching him, but what if he did not? What if…

No.

_No, it is not possible_ , he thought. _Odin said that he needed to learn a lesson…he had also said I would have time to think about it…he did not say that it would lead to redemption….but, no, mot…_ _ **Frigga**_ _would not allow it, Thor would not allow it…_

But both of them had no say when it came to decisions like these. Odin was king. He decided how to punish his son and he certainly decided how to treat the monster he had taken as hopefully useful souvenir, Loki knew that much.

If Odin had said so, he would never see light again.

_I will never see light again._

He rolled over and jumped to his feet in a fluent motion, just stood there panting, his hands opening and closing rapidly before he turned his blue eyes to the ceiling and began to speak in a trembling voice that was dancing between the urges to scream or break.

"So, that is it?" he asked. "I will just sit here until I can not take it anymore and end my own life? This is your grand plan for me? You could not break me, so you just place me between your other stolen treasures, label me another trophy and speak of me no longer?"

No answer.

Loki was a little unsure if he really had expected one, all his rants had been pointless so far, but the utter silence disturbed him. He did love monologs, but he had never liked one-sided conservations.

"Is that a 'yes'? A 'no'? Are you so disgusted with me that you cannot even answer me anymore? Have you tired of calling me your son so thoroughly that you will not even tell me if it will be my fate to sit here for the rest of all eternity?"

Loki stopped, panting and shivering. Straps seemed to tighten around his chest and his muscles tensed. He felt droplets of cold sweat gathering at his brow, between his shoulder blades, his palms, glittering and sticky and unfamiliar.

"So, that is it then?" he went on. The echo, almost unbearably loud in the usually perfectly quiet room, multiplied the tremor in his voice but Loki did not hear it. His head and ears seemed to be filled with white noise, erasing every rational thought, tying his silver tongue.

"Are you watching me? Do you even still care if I am still alive or already dead? Did you ever care?"

Nothing…and then, Loki simply lost it.

"So you have me risen as Asgard's joke, then you cast me aside like a bastard, torture me and now make me crawl like a mutt until I end my own existence or until you forget to feed me? That is the justice of the great king Odin?

"But not with me. I will not bow to you. I will not give up. I will have all of you pay for this. In the end, this mutt, this monster, will stand over all of you. _Over all the nine realms_ _ **. I will take what I deserve!**_ "

He hoped, actually hoped that would attract attention, but apparently, he was just talking to air.

Loki felt panic overtaking him entirely and to stop it, just to stop it, he tried to recall the euphoria he had felt when he had stood on the mortal's tower, seeing war unfold.

That was when, for the first time since months, his memories were projected again.

They were everywhere. The ceiling, the walls, the floor, splintered and overlapping, a mirror of his fractured mind. For the first time since he had been in here, Loki cried out in horror.

He stumbled backwards, tried to focus, tried to do something, anything to make it stop, but it did not work. Nothing worked, he could just stand there, helplessly watching.

"Stop." He barely processed he was speaking. "Stop this. If you want me dead, stop tormenting me. S-stop...STOP! STOP IT!"

Still, there was no reaction. Loki's back hit the wall. He did not hear himself whispering "please".

He was close to saying sorry. To admit (to Odin and himself) that he was lonely and he wanted out and he regretted it, that guilt was weighing down on him…even if Odin truly could not hear him, maybe Heimdall could.

But then he thought of the mortal telling him a list of people he had _"pissed off"_ and thought _: You have forgotten the all-seeing gatekeeper_ and that made him laugh hysterically.

Half laughing, half crying, Loki sank down at the wall, pulled his knees up, set his elbows on them and buried his face in his arms. No, Heimdall would let him rot in here, no matter what he said. A part of him could understand that. The part that thought he was already getting what he deserved.

The rest of him swore revenge.

It took him a long time to stop laughing and even longer to stop crying.

* * *

About one month later, there was another shift in the room's magic.

Loki, who had been cowering in the corner where he had sunken down after his outbreak, raised his head and looked around with tired eyes.

The room moved. It was being transported somewhere, walls and bed and himself included, he realized.

He did not know where, but it did not matter to him. Not really.

Slowly, Loki stood up and straightened his clothes. He stroked his hair back, combed his fingers through it until he was sure that it did no longer look disheveled. He wiped his eyes and cheeks clear, in short: he made himself look presentable.

Maybe he had lost himself a while ago. Yes, he had cried, screamed, got close to begging.

But he _was not broken_.

Or at least, he would not appear broken.

Loki sunk down on the bed, taking a loose posture, his back and the back of his head resting against the wall. Behind closed eyelids, he noticed coming brightness.

He was ready for everything.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all my dear readers who got this far!
> 
> This was the longest chapter yet, I hope it wasn't too lengthy…  
> I know, this lock-him-away-idea is not the newest, but I think, in the comics, Loki was locked in a tree for a while and in mythology, a giant who caught him locked him in a small box for month, until he agreed to send Thor over so that the giant could kill him, so there is a real background to that idea...  
> Hope, you enjoyed!  
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten


	7. Questions Over Questions

* * *

The cage was Hulk-tested (from the outside only, but they had felt better doing it) and declared ready.

While they had been scattered all across the room before, the Avengers now stood up, forming a loosed line in the middle of the room that shielded Hill, Coulson and most of the men behind them. Those me, armed guards SHIELD had provided, watched them, nervously checking their guns.

Tony didn't understand why they would bother with _guns_. Bullets would bounce off both the glass and Loki, after all.

"Well, I'd say we're ready now," Fury said, positioning himself between them and the cell.

They had – even though it had taken Thor a while to agree on the terms – decided that Fury would be the only one doing the talking. Even though Fury and he _had_ met before, Loki had had grater troubles with the others and they didn't want to make it personal – well, more personal than it already was.

But even though they had agreed to fade into the background, they had refused to leave entirely. The fear that Loki would find a way to get away was too high.

"Time to get our prisoner in there."

Clint's bow rose and finally, his voice gained back a little of his usual deadpan-sarcasm. "By the way, how exactly are we going to let your people know…."

The cage's rims suddenly blazed with white and golden light. Everybody froze, staring at the phenomenon and then…

"Take position!"

…everybody jumped to comply. The door opened and the armed men split up, some taking position at the corners behind the Avengers, replacing Hill and Coulson who left, the former holding the door open for the latter, some following outside.

The rims of the pane darkened, suddenly looking grayish and rough. Before their eyes, the semi-darkness spread out over the cell, always closely following the golden shimmer, cutting it off from view.

Natasha stared wide-eyed, but her body was tensed and unmoving, steady fingers resting on her gun "Thor, what's happening there?"

"The cell. They're transferring Loki here by transferring the room he is being held in and obliterating it afterwards."

"Why so complicated? Why not just him?" Steve asked, never tearing his gaze from the former-glass-now-massive-stone-wall.

Thor's fingers nervously danced over Mjölnir's handle. "I do not know. The finer workings of sorcery are Loki's specialty. I can only guess that they do not want to give Loki even a second outside of a magic-suppressing room."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Clint growled through clenched teeth.

In front of them, the stone began to vanish, first patches, than everything became transparent, allowing them insight into their cell. First, it was like looking through a gossamer-thin, gray curtain into a very dimly lit room, then the light faded entirely, together with the last remains of stone.

The cell was darker than before, apparently, the light bulbs behind the glass had not survived the brush with alien magic, but the bright shine of the remaining neon lights was enough to make the interior visible.

Parallel to the back wall – it was just bright enough to make out the outlines - now stood a simple cot with a slim figure sitting on it. He was leaned back against the wall, right leg pulled to his chest, one forearm loosely resting on the knee, the other hand hanging limply in his lap. His face was practically hidden by shadows.

Compared to Thor, Loki had looked slender, but still, Tony had been looking for a broad-shouldered, tall man, for dark leather, steel and gold, so he didn't recognize the man on the bed.

For a moment, he was sure that Loki had managed to escape, put some poor guy in there as substitute and just left and every second this man would jump up and ask for help. A sharp curse was already on his lips…

…and then, the man leaned forward and light fell on familiar, pale and sharp features.

Loki looked at them without any expression until he recognized them. There was a flicker of surprise on his face, breaking into a wide smile, every bit as deranged as they remembered it.

"Why, Thor! I assumed you would be waiting for me, but Mr. Fury and the rest of your mortal team…I have to admit, I did not expect to see them again so soon."

"I would have loved to spend the rest of my life without ever seeing your white face ever again, believe me." Fury obviously tried to keep his tone as easy as Loki had, but he could not keep the aggression out. "Unfortunately, I still have some questions to ask you."

Loki's brows rose. "Questions?" He gaze flickered over all their faces, then returned to Fury. "And what _exactly_ is it that you would want to know of me?"

It was eerie. Not only did this man look like he was perfectly enjoying himself, he also managed to sound as if they were sitting around a coffee table…but something rubbed Tony the wrong way. Something was wrong…even more than last time, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

He was not sure if that should worry or annoy him.

Apparently, Fury had settled on annoyance, his tone got sharper with every word, at least. "I want to know everything about your alien buddies. And by everything I mean: _Everything_."

The smirk faded. For as moment, his face was kind of empty, then he chuckled...and moved.

Loki rose from the bed in one slow, eerily fluent movement, just by shifting his weight. The moment his feet touched the floor, he started to saunter towards them with the perfect control and elegance of a predatory cat.

The walk sure showed a lot of self-confidence, but the closer Loki got, the more Tony thought that he should have stayed in the distance.

Last time they had met, he had looked tall and broad, but now that he Loki was barefoot and Tony was wearing his boots, they stood eye to eye. When his slender hand came up to stroke long, now un-gelled hair back, the loose-fitting sleeve fell down to his elbow, showing how lean he actually was, especially compared to guys like Steve or Thor.

As long as he had been sitting back at the wall, it had been impossible to estimate him, but from up close, it was clear how much of Loki's aura was nothing but show and costume.

Loki stopped a few steps away from the glass, staying out of the brightest light. His eyes flickered over their faces, hanging on Thor for a moment, who shifted uncomfortably, finally returning to Fury.

And then, he grinned again and suddenly, despite the clothes that were basically pajamas hanging loosely around his slender frame, despite the hair falling around his face and shoulders like it had been styled for a shooting, his insane, dangerous aura was back.

"And why would you suddenly be so interested in the Chitauri?"

Fury literary growled at him. "Just so we're clear. I am the one asking questions around here."

Loki nodded and raised his hands in a placating manner, but his voice was mocking. "Of course you are, Mr. Fury. But you have failed to ask me a question yet."

Fury looked as if he wanted to pull his gun and empty the whole magazine right into his face.

"Fine," he growled. "So, what do your buddies want here?"

Loki cocked his head aside, ignoring the hair falling forward over his shoulder. "You come to me with those questions after so much time?"

"I thought we had cleared out who was asking questions to whom," Fury spat at Loki, but the god just grinned at him, eyes flashing and in this second all of them understood: Loki would not answer.

"So you don't want to talk?"

Loki gave a small, short laugh. "What reason would I have?"

There was a change in Fury that none of them had ever seen before. His face and voice suddenly went cold and hard, absolutely merciless. "I think you don't understand the position you are in. Once again, _boy,_ you and your friends put me in a defensive position and once again, you are at my mercy…with the difference that now, I will not hesitate to use that."

Fury pointed at Loki's chest and his voice became even colder. "You can bet your ass that I will _make_ you talk."

Loki reacted suddenly and more violent than any of them would have expected.

His face fell, becoming hard and humorless. Seemingly with the speed of light, he crossed the distance between them and struck out, letting not only his fist, but his whole right forearm connect with the glass. The frame creaked ominously, but the steel and the rivets withstood.

Still, all of them flinched back and hastily drew their weapons, one of the guards even dropped onto one knee to have a safer stand. It was almost embarrassing.

Loki's smirk came back as he took the scene in. He hit against the pane again, but this time softly, barely touching the glass, but still, the Avenger's hands tightened around their weapons again.

"So scared…." Loki murmured, voice soft, but carrying. "So scared of one man in a cage, but still you try to threaten…your haughtiness, Mr. Fury, knows no borders."

_Cage?_ Tony thought. _Yeah, cage is right, but 'man'?_

Now that Loki was closer, Tony could see this…whatever-it-was, that made Loki look even more dangerous and unpredictable even better than before. He was not sure what it was, just that his smirks were wider but hollow, his muscles taut and there were hard, tense lines around his eyes – eyes that never quite held still, flickered this way and that, never resting one somebody or something longer than five seconds.

There was something seriously wrong with him.

"I ain't haughty," Fury said. "I'm confident. There is something that can cut you and I will find it." He slowly retreated, giving the Avengers a sign to leave the room and discuss their next action. "And when I have found it, you'll wish you never met me."

With that, he wheeled around and rushed out of the room, tearing the heavy steel door open so harshly it hit the wall. The Avengers took a moment to glare at their prisoner. Next to him, Tony could feel Thor shifting. It must be torturous for him not to speak up, but he did follow them out…not without locking gazes with Loki, of course.

The younger god still stood there, strange, teeth-baring grin in place, one arm pressed against the pane, the other hand - balled to a fist – quivering at his side.

He looked as if he was about to snap.

Tony was no nervous man, but he was worried what would happen when he did.

* * *

When he felt the flash of magic subsiding, Loki slowly opened his eyes against the light.

He fully expected to see Odin towering above him, maybe Thor, too…or at least Odin's attack dogs, ready to drag him into the throne room or back to the dungeons.

The light blinded him and the first thing he saw was black leather. He already was preparing himself to be hauled up when his eyes got used to the brightness and he recognized the human leader he had met on Midgard.

Surprised, Loki stared at him, then let his gaze flicker over the other people standing right outside…well, wherever 'here' was…and found Thor standing at the mortal's right, a few feet behind him.

He was unsure what to think of this. Was this some new trick? A hallucination?

Even if it was, Loki had been silent for so long he could not withstand. He let a grin show on his face just for the sake of it and greeted Thor – the only one who he was maybe not imagining. He half-expected Thor to ask him what he was talking about.

All the bigger was his surprise when it was the mortal who answered him. Wanting to ask..

"Questions?" he repeated, looking back at Thor to see if his expression changed – his broth…the man was a horrible liar – but there was nothing. They all looked hard and tense and…real.

But that could not be. The Chitauri…was Odin doing this because he hoped he would tell the mortals what he knew about them? It sounded almost possible, Odin torturing a bad conscience into him and then question him.

Acting rashly, Loki stood up and closed in on the group. If this was nothing but an illusion, he would probably be able to tell from close up. Unfortunately, the closer he got, the more he became aware that, illusion or not, he was, once again, the only one in the room who was practically not clothed.

Also, he was all too aware that without the heavy boots, shoulder- and chest pieces gaining him a few inches in every direction, he was smaller than half and slimmer than almost every man out there.

Illusion or not, he felt nervous.

There were so many of them. It was confusing. He was unsure where to look at first, what source of light and sound was important and after the endless twilight in the cell, after being left without color and sound for month, even the dimmed light seemed so bright and even breathing was loud…

If they were real….if Odin and his men were hiding behind those illusions…

He knew that it was self-confidence, conviction and clarity that would puzzle them, anger them, would maybe cause them to make mistakes. He had none of that right now.

Luckily, he could even lie with his body.

Loki forced himself into a loose, confident posture, kept the grin in place and asked: "And why would you suddenly be so interested in the Chitauri?"

He hoped it sounded like "I know this is implausible.", but it did not end the play. No, the mortal just went on in the same, harsh, gruff tone he had had last time.

It did not mean anything…or did it?

Loki felt more confused than ever before, but he decided that he would not let anything slip. He would give nobody this satisfaction, he would play his defiant part. (He also enjoyed it to talk to somebody again, no matter if real or not, but he would die before admitting that).

And then, the mortal dared to threaten him.

He still had not decided if they were fake or reality, but Loki got angry. After all of this, after the month spent alone, lonely, longing for contact, after the days spent in those memories, all the fear and pain and horror, after the hours hanging in chains from the dungeon's ceiling, wanting to scream…that mortal _dared threaten him_!

Without thinking, Loki threw himself forward, let his arm crash against the glass that was now surrounding him, putting his full weight into the blow...and saw something interesting.

They flinched, some of them back, some of them forward to meet him should the pane break. They grabbed their weapons.

Odin's men were not that good at acting.

His eyes flickered over them as if on their own account, swiping over their faces, trying to estimate their expressions. He kept talking, but in fact, he was trying to decide: Were they real or were they just fake?

He simply could not be sure…and he hated it. Hated the way he felt helpless, hated the knowledge that he was maybe talking to nothing but air, hating not to know if he had finally lost his mind and slipped into insanity.

He did not react to further threats, so the mortals left the room, Thor not without looking back at him with this stupid, begging, sad eyes, and left Loki to his own thoughts.

When they were gone, Loki looked around, examining his new cage, but his heart was not behind it. Deep inside, he was still busy with thinking about this threat.

_I will find something that cuts you._

Odin had every tool to cut him – and do more, a lot more – in body and mind. Was he that sophisticated…or was this real? Had the mortals asked to question him about the Chitauri? But why, if not…

If not they had new problems with them.

Loki stood there, in the middle of the room, staring into nothingness. From the outside, he was calm, but his thoughts – wild and uncontrolled, but finally, _finally_ focused on a problem again – were racing. If the Chitauri were here, then because they had been ordered. If they were coming here, then Thanos…

He wheeled around and stalked back to one of the walls, hastily controlling the runes. They were clearly improvised, but very meticulous and well done. There were no gaps he could use to break through the spell.

That was bad. If Thanos came and he still was in this cage, locked, with no possibility to escape…

Loki shuddered, remembered that he was probably being watched and walked swiftly back to the bed. He dropped down, leaned himself against the wall and hid his trembling hands by folding them in his lap.

If this was an illusion, he could just play along until Odin got bored and stopped. If not…

Then he had to find a way out of here.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The mortals had given him a chance to escape last time. This time, he had nobody on the outside, but they…

_They are just mortals_ , Loki thought. _If they really want to torture me for the information they want, they have to get in here. And Thor, he is predictable and easy to manipulate. They will give me a chance to flee._

Loki's eyes opened and focused on the fogged window behind the glass on the other end of the room, the window he was sure they were standing behind, talking about him.

His muscles quivered. He wanted to jump up and yell at them, call them back, but he sat perfectly still, trying to sink back into meditation.

Yes. He was sure of it. No mortal prison would ever hold him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dearest readers!
> 
> So it finally happened: Loki and the Avengers met!  
> This was just the first scene, of course. I wanted to show the Avenger's and Loki's point of view in this first meeting, so I didn't have the time for the personal, so that'll be dealt with in the next chapter.  
> Actually, I think, next chapter we will see Thor's first attempt to talk to Loki...and we'll see how good Loki really is in manipulating our favorite superhero team.  
> So, I hope you enjoyed and see you next chapter!  
> Thanks to everybody who left kudos or comments! I love you, gals n' guys!
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten


	8. The Question That Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been tested and declared mostly, though not entirely, trigger-free. Warnings for Fury's temper.

Tony could feel Loki's gaze on the back of his neck, following them on their whole way out. He was actually thankful when the steel door slammed shut behind Steve, putting a second wall between them.

Now, finally, it was just the team again…well, the team plus one pissed-off looking director.

Fury flipped a switch and the window between the two rooms became milky, obscuring them form Loki's view. On the surface next to the window, screens flared up, showing the corridor and the laboratory itself, in as many angles as possible. The cameras managed to cover the whole cell even though placed on the outside.

He watched their prisoner stepping away from the glass to look around, then tore his gaze away. Next to him, he could practically feel Thor tensing and defensively crossing his arms, getting ready for an uncomfortable conversation.

Fury didn't waste any time. "Can you think of anything that would help us here? Anything we could use to make him talk?"

Thor hesitated for a long moment. "I know things that would hurt even him, or me," he finally said.

The director looked more annoyed than ever. "Well, how about you…"

"But I would rather use those means as a last resort, if at all," Thor undercut him in a very collected voice, hard eyes never leaving Fury's.

"If at all?" Fury repeated. "Just what are you saying?"

"I am saying that I would try talking first. I would rather not give my brother over to unnecessary pain if it can be helped."

"'Unnecessary?' Last time those Chitauri were here, there were over two hundred casualties. Women, children, _innocent_ people, wounded and killed and now those things are back, threatening those people again. And them being here…" He pointed towards the milky window. "…is _his_ fault."

"And he was punished for it," Thor said, very calmly. " _Severely_."

Tony threw a glance at the screen where he could see Loki sitting on the bed, staring blankly ahead, and wondered if he really wanted to know what 'severely' meant in Asgard.

"That doesn't change anything," Fury argued back. "We still need information and he is not willing to give them."

Thor un-crossed his arms and straightened up, suddenly looking _very_ imposing

"And that should still leave us with more options than torture." His voice was not any louder or harder than before, but something in the tone made very clear that he would defend his position with every means.

"It would." One had to give credit to Fury for not looking intimidated. "If we had time, but we can't wait 'til this game bores him; we need answers and we need them _fast_."

"You do not know that," Thor reasoned.

"So you are willing to risk an entire city, maybe this world for the sake of a mass murderer?"

Thor's hands clenched at his sides and his steely eyes flared angrily but he managed to sound a bit more resolute than threatening. "I did not convince my father to take Loki here only to have him torn apart. And I am not willing to let you torture a defenseless prisoner before even trying to go another way."

Fury bristled, striking quite an intimidating pose himself, but Thor…well, he was the God of Thunder. There was no overshadowing his presence.

In that short pause, Tony, who had been listening with raising repulsion, decided that he had been silent for far too long.

Before those two could cause a diplomatic catastrophe, he stepped forward to throw his two cent in.

"Fury, he's got a point." Every eye immediately turned to him. "We're supposed to be the good guys, we don't run around ripping people's nails out and stuff scorching coals in their mouths whenever we feel like it."

He hoped nobody noticed the slight waver in his voice as he said that. The cave and the desert still appeared in his nightmares pretty detailed, but nowhere as near as that coal-incident.

Fury stared at him, but Tony held his gaze until the other man looked away again to glare at every single one of them. Natasha's face was a blank mask, Steve looked torn and Bruce was most likely on Thor's and his side. Clint was the only one almost looking as if he was agreeing with Fury, but luckily, he never spoke up.

_Good_ , Tony thought. He was not pro-Loki, but he _definitely_ considered himself anti-torture.

Apparently, the director knew when he was defeated. "All right. You question him all you want, but if there is another Chitauri-related incident, I will just start to test strategies. You may be sentimental, but I will not let this world pay for it."

Making these his parting words, Fury left the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving an group in his wake.

As soon as they were alone, Thor gave up his threatening posture. His shoulders suddenly dropped and he raked his fingers through his hair.

"Thank you," he sighed into Tony's direction, sounding tired, almost defeated.

"No trouble." Tony tried to plaster an encouraging grin on his face. "SHIELD's always been too fast with the thumb-screws if you ask me."

Clint shifted his weight and stared at them defiantly. "Well, no protest to that…but don't you think he's right in this case?"

"Clint..." Bruce started with a glance at Thor, but was cut off, too.

"That is all right. I know that you have reason to hate him, but he is my brother still and I…" Thor broke off, looking at the screen where Loki still sat unmoving, eyes fixed on a point somewhere slightly right of the camera. "Loki has been through enough already."

" _He_ has been through enough?" Clint asked disbelievingly.

Thor and Tony both looked at him, but Natasha ended their quarrel before they could start it. "So now that SHIELD's off the table, we need a new strategy." She raised her brows and looked at Thor. "Thoughts?"

There was no reaction. Natasha waited for thirty seconds, then she rolled her eyes impatiently.

She knew they either needed to trick him again or they needed some form of leverage to hold over him. Some knowledge about what he might fear, what they could use as bribe.

And the only way to get that…

"You know, you still haven't told us what happened when you brought him to Asgard. If we knew what he's been sentenced to, well, you know…" She shrugged. "We would know how to play this."

"You want to know the details of his punishment?" When Thor put it like that, it sounded like they were gorehounds waiting to hear about the gruesome details of the latest snuff film and Tony winced a little, but Thor didn't seem offended, he merely shrugged.

"If it would help you…" was all he said before lapsing into a rough explanation of the mental attack the sorcerers had performed on Loki.

Thor honestly hoped that it would cause them to support him. He tried his best to _explain_ , but no words seemed to catch the situation he had experienced.

He was unconsciously staring at Loki's image on the screen while he talked, nervous about not being convincing – he had never been a great talker - but judging by the mixture of disbelief, bewilderment and a trace of horror he saw spreading on their faces when he glanced up, he managed well enough.

When he was done, there was a short silence, then Tony breathed out a "Wow".

"Not quite the word I would use," Natasha muttered.

"No, honestly now, _reliving the memories of the people he's killed_? That's…I don't know if I should say 'brilliant' or 'brutal'."

"Both, I believe," Thor said lowly. "He needed to understand that he has done something horrible, attacking civilians...but he should not have been forced to go through it alone, especially…" Thor stopped, overthought his words and hastily changed gears. "He was alone for too long."

Tony frowned. There was something Thor was not telling them, obviously.

"Well, if he was all alone this past year, than maybe we _should_ try talking. He might accidentally let something slip." Bruce mused before Tony could ask.

"You really think that would work?" Clint sounded more than doubtful.

"Well, it did last time." Natasha shrugged and crossed her arms, frowning in concentration. She was probably already planning the conversation. "I could try again."

"I think Thor should go in first."

Everybody turned to Bruce and even Thor himself looked skeptical, but the man just stared ahead, slowly wringing his fingers, no bit less concentrated than Natasha.

"He is angry at you, yeah, but from all of us, you were the only one he addressed. He _wants_ to talk to you, so let's give it to him. Plus, you know him best. Maybe you find something we don't."

Thor still looked doubting, but now there was faint hope in his eyes, too.

Tony still wasn't sure about it, but, well. Last time, too, Loki had let his guard down when he was angry. He had let it down enough to betray his plans, get blasted aside unprepared twice and for the Hulk to get his hands on him.

And this time…

Tony excluded himself from the rest of the discussion. He watched Loki, still sitting on the bed, taking in his still flickering eyes, his drumming fingertips, the unconscious, uncontrolled twitching of his muscles.

He heard heavy steps, then the door opening and closing again as Thor left. A moment later, his blonde mane appeared on the screen, too. Loki's head flinched up, and his lips spread into a wide, unsteady smile.

This time, he was even crazier than before.

Tony scoffed. It might actually work. Hopefully before Fury came back with an arsenal…or before the Chitauri came in firing.

Sighing, Tony pulled up a chair and sat down in a row with the rest of the team, watching the brothers' confrontation.

It was silent support…but support nonetheless.

* * *

Loki knew that he could not have been sitting here for longer than an hour, probably less, but he was already getting impatient.

He could feel his muscles moving on their own accord whenever he was not concentrating on keeping them still. His body wanted to stand up and move, his fingers tried to create ice to play with, but he did not let them.

Not as long as Thor was…might be?...watching. Too humiliating.

In the time he had been alone, Loki had had time to get is thoughts in order and made a decision.

Even if he was still in a cell on Asgard, the room itself had been made to look like Midgard. Thus, it would have Midgardian weaknesses. So, even if all of this was just a ruse of Odin to a goal he did not understand (and he still was not sure about this), it was best to treat this as reality.

Once this decision was settled, Loki had jumped to new musings.

Now, he wanted the humans to come back. He was not overly scared of any torture they might have planned for him – he was sure their methods and tools were naught in comparison with Asgard's and even if Thor would be the one doing it, he would not have it in him to actually hurt. Not in the way they had.

Thor was an oaf, reckless and vicious in battle, selfish and inconsiderate in peace, but he was by no means sadistic.

No, if it had actually been his not-brother standing behind this glass wall, sentimentality would protect him for a while.

But solely against the humans. The Chitauri were a different matter entirely. He needed the human's freak team to come and question him. He was not at his best – far from it, he grudgingly had to admit – but he was sure, if they would just _talk_ to him, he could find out how to escape.

Last time, the leader had even showed him how to open and drop the cage. Sheer stupidity, but useful.

But as long as no one _came_ …

As if on cue, the door opened again, revealing the Mighty Thor himself. Loki eyed him carefully as he approached the cage with slightly hesitant steps.

Loki greeted him with a broad grin. "Thor! Has your freak team sent you ahead in hope your sorrowful eyes would make me talk better than their meaningless threats?"

Thor just eyed him carefully. "The bruising's gone."

That threw Loki for a moment. He frowned, trying to make sense of that. "Well, after...so much time, I would be honestly worried if they were not gone," he finally said.

"I am just glad you were at least spared from chains and the damned muzzle this past year." Thor sounded as if he meant it. "Your face looked horrible after they had taken it off, I cannot imagine what it must have felt like wearing it."

Loki raised one brow, feeling a tinge of well-known anger. "You seem to forget who put it on me in the first place."

Thor almost winced. "For all it is worth, I _am_ sorry."

He actually was. He had hated it to see Loki, whose best weapon had always been his voice and words, gagged and humiliated like this. The dark, green-and-purple bruising on his face and the shallow cuts around his jawbones that this thing had left had not been helping the matter.

"You are being sentimental again," Loki informed him coldly, ruthlessly squishing the tiny spark of astonishment the apology woke in his heart. "Will you not start what you came here for?"

He really wished Thor would just _begin_. The sooner they came to the questioning part, the sooner he could stop asking himself if this man was actually worried about him. As soon as the uncomfortable part began, their roles would be clear again.

After all this confusion, Loki desperately needed clarity. Needed things to be easy and plain.

"I came here because I wanted to see you."

Of course, Thor would be stalling. Loki looked at him, then to the cameras and finally to the window without really seeing them, asking himself who was listening and how many and if Thor somehow opened a door he was not seeing yet, could he be fast enough to go before he caught him and what if he was not…

He forcefully wrestled his racing thoughts back into a provisional order before they could run wild and confuse him. He needed a clear head.

"You have seen me. You have seen that I am well and unharmed. Now you can leave and go back to whatever foolishness you plan on dragging your friends into today with a mind eased from all worries. Unless, of course, there would be something else you came for?"

His voice was mocking, but soft, like cold silk. Loki smiled, this time less forced. He was almost proud of himself.

"I was hoping you could answer me some questions I have, too," Thor admitted.

Loki opened his arms invitingly, fighting not to let a rising amount of fear show. The dungeons were in his mind all too clearly still. "Come in, then. Do your best. I am curious to what skills in torture you have, as you lowering yourself to this level before would be news to me"

"I will not force you." That surprised him again. "And do not _look_ at me like that. You are my _brother_. I would never harm you, how can you even _think_ that?"

Loki opened his mouth.

"Fine, I would never _torture_ you. And despite what you say, you are my brother."

"And I am impressed." Quite worried, too. Thor had never before been able to predict his words like this.

"Loki, please." Thor's face showed nothing but pained concern now. "Just answer the questions they have. You cannot want the Chitauri to come here again."

Loki felt a muscle at his jaw twitch. No, he did not. Especially not as long as he was locked.

The answer must have shown on his face, because he could see Thor brightening with joy even from back here…and moved to destroy it.

"Why would I?" he asked. "The humans have proven able to fight them. I do not see why I should bother to soothe their curiosity."

"Doing it will be seen as a sign of your good will." Loki scoffed, but Thor just went on. "Cooperating would show you have learned something. Maybe you would walk free soon. You would be able to come back home."

Loki stared at him. Was Thor this stupid…or had he become this deceiving?

Again, he stood up to walk forward. He stopped inches before the glass, looked into Thor's face and tried to ignore how he had to look _up_. Smiling softly, Loki reached out to him as if to touch his cheek.

"Lying, Thor, does not become you."

Almost immediately, all traces of joy or hope vanished from his broth…from _Thor's_ face, were replaced with pain and shock. He, too, reached out to touch the spot where Loki's hand lightly rested against the glass.

"Just what has _happened_ to you? What happened to you that made you scoff at the idea of ever being welcomed back?"

Loki felt a bitterness raising that was too familiar. He already knew Thor was fixed on the idea that he could be forgiven for the Destroyer-incident, the Midgard-incident, that he could forget and 'come back home'. Of course the man would just close his eyes against anything that did not fit his idea.

"If that is the best you can come up with, then you better send in the mortal as soon as he has found _something that cuts me_ ," he growled, tearing his hand away from the glass as if he had been burned.

"You should be careful with that offer. He will take you up on it."

Despite himself, Loki began to laugh. "After the trial, after what I have been sentenced to…do you even know that?"

Thor nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "The last time I saw you…you were on that stone, already in trance. They were about to send you those memories…" His voice faded out, maybe silenced by horror.

"The Mindcage, yes. Is that all?"

Thor stared at him in complete surprise and Loki was close to rolling his eyes and voice a snarky remark, just like in the good old times, but he held back.

"You do realize that they had to overpower me to send me into this trance, yes?" Loki swallowed thickly, his voice had begun to shake.

"Well…yes" Obviously, that oaf had never thought about it like that.

Loki grinned, an ugly, pained grimace. "And after centuries of guarding my thoughts, protecting my mind to every cost, did you think I simply gave in? Did you think I did not fight to the last scrap of my power to hold them off? Or did you think I _could not_ hold them off?"

Thor visibly paled. "What did they do to you?"

Loki bared his teeth at him. "What do you _think_?"

"Oh Loki…" In the other god's face, he could see the wish to remove the glass separating them, to put a hand on his cheek, hug him, _comfort_ him. He was not sure what to think of that. "I am so sorry. I did not…if I had known…"

Was he? Was he caring enough? Was he pretending…no, Thor was a horrible liar…right?

"Well now, Thor…" Loki allowed a manic grin to spread over his features, still shuddering with horrible memories. "Do you still believe anything you leader out there says could scare me just for a heartbeat? That the prospect of 'going home' softens my hatred?"

Thor looked vaguely sick, horrified and angry at the same time, and Loki was suddenly torn between malicious pleasure and feeling touched.

"Whatever you think will help you to make me cooperate, you are free to try, because there is only one outcome for this."

Thor took a step back from the glass, still staring at him in sheer horror and Loki felt excitement rushing through his veins. In his cell, he had horribly missed Thor, but seeing him here in all his glory and still pretending to be caring and ready to forgive…

It was too much.

"I will have my revenge, Thor. The only question that matters to me is: Who will be there first – me…or them?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you have reached the pseudo-cliffhanger that marks the end of this chapter. Welcome at the edge!  
> Not quite as planned in every way. I knew I had to do the discussion with Fury and Thor and the rest of the team supporting their friend rather than their official leader but when I came to writing, Fury was too stubborn to play along and then Loki just snatched the keyboard from me and started doing whatever he wanted.  
> Annoying beast. But what can one tiny mortal do against it?  
> Be that as it may, Loki is far from caving in and back to full-on confrontation mode, lashing out at whomever he has before him. Next time, he might prove that again while the ropes tighten around them…  
> Hope to see all of you again - bright and early, Monday morning (cookies for those, who know the quote)!
> 
> Thank you for the kind reception!


	9. Conversational Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially trigger-free.

Tony had not thought it would be possible, but the mood in their side of the laboratory had gotten even worse since Thor's try to get something out of Loki.

Since Loki had hinted at having been tortured in Asgard, the Thunder God had become significantly reserved. He was even more shocked than the rest of them, and had apparently given up hope at getting anything out of his brother by talking.

On the other hand, he opposed to Fury's methods even more now and by now, he had open support not only from Tony, but also from Bruce and Steve.

Putting a torture victim under torture again…even though he was a crazy mass murderer, it would be… _twisted_.

They had argued back and forth about what to do next for a good hour, until Bruce had finally played the voice of reason and told them to get at least a few hours of sleep. Most of them had begrudgingly admitted that he was right – they had been here for twenty hours by now, helping to test the cage, to question Loki.

They had been fried.

Unfortunately, five hours of pretty uncomfortable sleep later, they still could not agree on how to go on, if it was better to meet Loki's aggressive teases with Tony's snark, Clint's silent anger or Natasha's cool, even Steve's moral-dripping riot acts and threatening him with the Hulk had been suggested.

Fury breathing down their necks with growing intensity didn't help the situation along, too.

Now, they were sitting around the screens again, watching Loki sauntering through his cage – since his encounter with Thor, he had not been sitting still for longer than fifteen minutes – his eyes following the lined runes from the floor to the point above his head.

He might have looked like a tourist admiring the architecture of some church, had there not been something jerky, impulsive about his movements, making him seem restless and driven.

"Why can't I just go in?" Tony demanded. "Last time I got him pissed enough to throw me out of a window, I'll get him to yell at me, easy."

"Yeah, that's what we want, for you two to have a pissing contest," Clint growled.

"Why the hell not? He rants when he's pissed, right?"

Thor shrugged, looking solemn. "Yes, he does. But he also gets more likely to deceiving his opponents when he is angered. Also, he has beaten you in discussion before, he will feel superior and lie to you just to prove he is."

Tony was about to argue that ending a discussion by throwing your opponent out of a freaking window _wasn't_ winning when Natasha moved.

She suddenly straightened and pushed her chair back. Its legs scratched over the floor witch a shrill shriek. She stood up, loosened her gun in the holster, and walked swiftly towards the door. Tony's imagination immediately added sparks of confidence flying from her heels.

Steve moved forward to stop her. "Natasha, are you sure? You got him last time, he won't fall for that again."

Natasha looked back defiantly. "Fine, you want to go?" When there was no answer, she nodded. "He doesn't know what to think of me and maybe wants to prove he's smarter. I'll get you something. Just trust me."

Before he could say anything else, she pushed past the super soldier, fully taking advantage of the fact that he would never use his strength against a woman and strode through the door.

The rest of the Avengers stared, then they all simultaneously rushed to the screens to watch the encounter.

When the door opened, Loki stopped and turned to face it. As he saw who was approaching him, his expression wandered from surprise to wariness to a wide grin within a second.

"Agent Romanoff." His voice was silkily soft, but deprived form any emotion.

"Loki," she greeted back, voice equally plain.

"I was wondering if you had given up already." Loki came a few steps closer, until he was standing at the line the light falling into the cage created. "So tell me now: With intentions of what kind were you sent in here?"

"I wasn't sent, I came," Natasha corrected him. "We had a good talk last time, I thought trying again was worth a shot."

Loki's smirk changed, the skin around his eyes tightened warily. "'Take your shot' then, as your kind says."

Natasha nodded and took her position, right in front of the significantly taller demigod. "I want you tell me something about your ex-allies. Like, how do they swim through space or how did they travel before you came along, the likes."

"Why do you not ask what you really want to hear?" Natasha didn't respond and Loki sadly shook his head, every inch the theatrical diva Tony knew him to be.

"We have been at this point before so you know the play, Agent Romanoff." He smiled and used both hands to gesticulate at himself and her. "This is a…. _mutual_ conversation."

Natasha crossed her arms. "So you will give me information if I give you information, that's what you're saying?"

"If you want to put it like this…" Loki shrugged and started to walk again, looking perfectly relaxed, but Tony could – and he was sure that Natasha could, too – see the sharp awareness in his eyes.

This time, Loki knew she would be trying to trick him.

"Do you want to hear another personal story or do you know all of mine?" Natasha asked him, tone cold but slightly mocking.

Another grin that almost made Tony shudder, despite only seeing it on screen. "No, I do not wish to hear anecdotes of your life. You are invited to share those with me when situation is not so dire anymore, though. I have not heard stories of skilled bloodshed in quite a time."

If the little barb offended Natasha, she didn't show it. Tony really had to hand it to her, her professionalism easily outmatched that of Clint or Fury.

"What makes you think the situation is dire?" she asked, not betraying any emotion but bewildered curiosity.

Loki gave her a tired look and waved the question off. "You would not have had me transferred here so hastily, questioned me this guilelessly if not the Chitauri were standing before your city's gates."

Natasha thought for a moment. In the adjacent room, the rest of the Avengers did, too…but Tony knew that she had no choice. She had to give him at least a scrap of the truth.

"You're right." Natasha came closer until she was standing right in front of the glass, almost exactly on the spot where Thor had stood hours ago. "They are here."

* * *

At the same moment Natasha opened the door between the laboratories, Sif strolled over to the arena's edge the and let herself drop next to Volstaag and Fandral to watch the last training fight for today.

"Hjalti has become better," Fandral said happily. His whole back was covered with sand and his sleeve showed long tears from his fight with Cosack's eldest, but he looked overall content, still.

"Hogun will crush him," Sif scoffed coolly.

Both men threw her suspicious glances, but she ignored them. She was not at ease and she would not pretend to be. Even the fights had not managed to soothe her today…even though she had won every single one and had handed out some bruises that would remind the mighty warriors not to laugh at a women on battlefield for a while.

Sif knew it was petty, but she could not help it. She was angry with Thor.

Roughly three days ago, Thor had returned from one of his prolonged visits to Midgard and instead of coming to them, he had rushed to see his father the second the Tesseract's strange powers had released him. In fact, they had met him by coincidence as he had practically run into them on his way.

And instead of saying anything clear, he had just claimed that the mortals needed Loki, of all people, and then he had rushed into his father's quarters. Sif had wanted to ask him for details, had wanted to offer him her help, but Thor had declined and let Heimdall send him back to earth.

So, yes, she accepted him teaming with the mortals, but she did absolutely not accept to be replaced by them and be it only for the few years they would live.

In the makeshift arena – it was merely a roughly quadrangular field just outside the city's walls, covered with a thick layer of sand, but practically nobody remembered at time when it had not been used for training fights – Hogun threw his opponent down hard enough for the man to slide a few feet.

They waited for about thirty seconds before Balder laughed approvingly. "Good strike, my friend. It seems the Aesir are not the only people made of steel."

As usual, Hogun's reply was not more than a grunt and a shrug as he dusted himself of.

Hjalti tried to stand up and sank groaning back down. "That were really good fights, but I think I am finished for today."

"I would agree." Balder commented with a glance to Hjalti's fingers that were red and already swelling from the hit they had taken. "Does anybody want a last round? Fandral?"

The blonde man waved off. "No, thanks. I want to save some of my stamina for tonight."

"Crude hound," Sif growled and slammed her elbow into his already bruised side, but she was grinning.

"Back to home, then?" Volstagg asked hopefully. Sif could hear his stomach growling even from where she sat.

"If we are done here." Balder shrugged and went to first help Hjalti up and then fetch their horses. "Are you riding with us?"

"We came by foot," Hogun informed him, sounding slightly annoyed. Sif could understand it, asking a question like this when there obviously were only two horses standing in a short distance from the field…it was so _Balder_.

"Well then!" The two men mounted their horses and waved for goodbye. "You all are very formidable opponents! It would be fine to see you more often. Just next time, if you find him, you could bring Thor along, too. I would love to cross blades with him again, too."

"We will try!" Sif called after him and then lowly added "If he would still care to cross blades with Asgardians, that is."

"Are you still bitter that he did not want to take you along to Loki's meeting with the mortals?" Volstagg asked her.

"You have to admit, it is for the better. You would have strangled him before he could have told them anything they wanted to know," Fandral told her and then hastily and unsuccessfully ducked away from her blow.

They wandered down the path in silence for a while, then she said, "It is not that I feel jealous or rejected. I just have the feeling that there is so much he has not told us about Midgard and I hate the thought that he is keeping secrets form us."

Volstagg shook his head. "Maybe he just does not want to give is any more reason to discredit Loki. You know how he is with his brother."

"Yes, I know." Sif sighed. "But it still bugs me. Thor is not the one who should lie and keep secrets."

"Well, we cannot change it right now, so you should forget about your worries until he returns." He thought for a moment and gave her his best insinuating grin. "I could help you to set your mind onto… _different_ things. I am sure I would perform very well, as in every aspect of my life as my many battle scars will prove."

Sif snorted. "Battle scars are only proof you were hit. And I know most of them come either from you tripping or that time Volstagg fell on you."

Even Fandral himself stumbled with laughter and, as he had wanted, their mood brightened immediately. That was, as always, until Hogun piped up.

"You might get a chance on real battle scars soon."

They followed his gaze up. In front of them, a winded stairway carved into the stone led up to a bridge connected one side of the narrow valley with the hill the city of Asgard was build on. And on the bridge, his back turned to them, stood a muscular man with a black mane surrounding shoulders and neck – no one less but the God of War himself.

Sif and Hogun exchanged a glace. If Tyr was here, battle never was far.

They sped up a little, hasting up the granite steps, smoothed by many millennia of usage, but before they had gone half the way, a woman walked on the bridge from Asgard's side. She saw Tyr, hesitated and then sped towards him.

At the end, the stairway took a sharp, ninety-degree-turn to the right before the bridge, surrounded by high walls shielding the stair from the abyss. When someone cowered behind the wall, they were not visible from the bridge, Sif knew.

She did not know what made her do it, but as she saw the small, blonde woman she did not recognize – Thor and Loki both would have – talking to Tyr, she let herself drop, waving for the rest of then to do the same.

She had not planned to listen in, but then the wind turned.

"…needed a sorceress to support the spell." That was the woman's voice, followed by Tyr's deep growl.

"So it is a prisoner on Midgard now. Then let us hope the mortals have the guts to do what Odin could not."

The woman's voice became higher. "You mean kill him?" There was a pause. Sif assumed Tyr was nodding. "They would not dare, he still is royalty."

Sif frowned and glanced at the others. Fandral mouthed "Talking about Loki" into her direction and twisted his face into a questioning look.

"It is a monster." Tyr snarled. "And I know you know that, Gytha."

The woman – Gytha – was silent for a while, then she lowly said: "Yes, I do…I helped…you know, the AllTongue, prompting his magic to shapeshift…I cannot say, Tyr, I am sworn to silence…and so are you."

"I know." That sounded dismissive. "I was fighting the battle with Odin, I was the last one to leave from all warriors and I was there when he brought that thing out of the temple, disguised as one of ours and he bound me with an oath, too. He should have killed it."

"Of course he would have deserved a death sentence for what happened on Midgard. But be assured he was punished. Not as hard as I would have wished, but hard." Gytha said.

"Not then. It would have been a good idea, taking this runt, but the moment Odin noticed those giant animals did not care about the brat he should have killed it _before_ it could cause all this trouble."

"You know I agree, but Frigga and Thor had fallen for the child already. Appearance can fool the soft hearts of most women and children," Gytha argued a little defensively.

"Odin is as soft as them," Tyr growled, uncaring of Gytha's horrified gasp. "Keeping this thing was bad enough, announcing it his child was even worse, stopping it from ending the rest of those monsters and not killing it after Midgard was unforgivable. He has become weak."

"He is our _king_!" Gytha hissed mortified.

"And he protects a monster from the ice!" Tyr hissed back.

"Tyr, hush, _please_. If somebody hears you…you are sworn and you know it, the Allfather will…"

"If you are scared, then go and search your herbs, sorceress," Tyr scoffed at her. "It's all you mages are good for, apparently."

Sif could hear Gytha's gasps and Tyr's heavy steps as he retreated. He was going to Asgard, but Gytha was not and if she walked on, she would find them here, but she could not care.

Sif sat on the last flight of stairs, back of her head leaned against granite, golden and crystalline ornaments glittering in the corner of her eye and not seeing or hearing anything as she tried to wrap her mind around the impossibility she had just heard. She was not sure when she managed to turn her head to look at her friends only to be met by the same shock she felt reflected on their faces.

"He…did I understand that right?" Fandral stammered, voice unusually high.

Sif shook her head slowly…and then, the same ferocity and pragmatism that had caused her to become a warrior clicked in.

"I don't know," she said. "But I know someone who does."

Gytha flinched as Sif brushed around the corner. She threw then a suspicious glance and hasted past them with a small, greeting nod. Sif paid her no heed.

The other looked after her, but followed the only women in their group on her way to the gate at the city's opposite side without stopping Gytha. They knew it was not necessary to ask the mage.

Heimdall would have better answers anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two cliffhangers in one chapter. Ha.  
> The situation is getting worse and worse for Loki…and he doesn't even know. It might take a few chapters before I return to Asgard, but they will have their role.  
> To the first part….that discussion between Loki and Natasha was one of my favorite scenes in the movie and I couldn't resist the rematch. They are just both so…brilliant. Part two of their discussion will be in the next chapter…and don't worry, the talks between Tony and Loki will come soon, too.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! Reviews and constructive critic are appreciated!


	10. Impossibility

"You're right." Natasha came closer until she was standing right in front of the glass, almost exactly on the spot where Thor had stood hours ago. "They are here."

" _Now_ we are playing." Loki stopped in his pacing to face Natasha properly, his expression becoming serious. "They attacked you again…and now what exactly is it you wish to know? You already know how to slay them."

"They didn't." The woman put her arms akimbo, fingertips almost resting on her gun. Loki raised one brow and cocked his head aside in question.

"They didn't attack us yet. They're just…present. We want to know why and we want to know before your buddies can go on another murder spree. That means, we will find out no matter how, so either you open your mouth now or Fury and his specialists have a go on you. It's your decision."

Everybody expected Loki to react violent again. Tony even hoped that maybe he would lapse into a rant, accidentally giving away whatever he knew or was trying to hide…just like he had done last time Natasha had questioned him.

Instead, the god just stood there, staring into nothingness for a whole of ten seconds, his fingers clenching and un-clenching at his sides slowly.

Then he looked up…and _grinned_.

"Do you really hope to scare me? Or do you hope I would tell you because you have a familiar face?" His voice slowly gained back the mean-mocking quality they were used from him, his eyes glittered wild and maniacal.

Natasha answered by giving him a sneering look. "It worked last time, remember?"

To everybody's surprise, what was meant as taunt made Loki outright laugh.

"The haughtiness of your leader had infected his vassals, it appears. Last time, you learned what I wanted you to learn." If Loki's voice had been silk before, now it was sharp steel wrapped in velvet. "Not more. Not less."

Natasha did her best to look disbelieving. "Whatever gets you through the night."

"You tried to make me believe you had come for the sake of Agent Barton. And you were good." Loki smiled at her, almost fondly. "So I had to test you. And while I approached you, threatening your life and the life of the very man you had supposedly come to protect…never did you back away. You flinched, yes, but your hands came not up for defense, they came down, widening your stand, reaching for those pathetic things you call a weapon."

While speaking, Loki demonstrated it, raising both arms in a defending, helpless-looking gesture before his chest, then letting them fall to his sides, fingers reaching for an imaginary gun.

"Your body language gave you away. You could have fooled a mortal, but you might want to remember that I have been doing this since long before you were born."

Natasha was only staring tensely. "You are changing the subject, Loki. I wanted to talk about now, not about the past."

Loki turned and began to walk away very slowly, ignoring her. "I knew what I had to do and that you were a spy. I t was the perfect opportunity. What would make a man angry enough to lose control if not…"

He spun around, raising his forefinger. His stance was that of a professor giving a lecture, his face showed the manic glee of a ridiculed scientist who had finally proven all his crazy theories right…or that of a Trickster God finally able to show everybody how smart he really was.

"…if not the very people who have brought him into this situation turning against him?"

Natasha contemplated that, nodded to herself. "How do I know you are not making that up to throw me off the game now?"

"You cannot." Loki smirked gloatingly.

"You really hope you can get me to doubt myself." Now Natasha was sneering back, openly attacking. "You look so smug right now, but I think that's all show."

"Oh, do you." There was a hint of aggressiveness in Loki's face and voice, but it was strangely superficial, completely lacking any form of depth….as everything Loki had been doing since Natasha was in this room.

"I know. You are playing mind games because you want to stall. Do you want to keep us from finding out you are as ill-informed as we are?"

Loki's grin widened, giving him a dangerously deranged look, but again, Tony saw something that disturbed him. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"I am doing this because it is fun. It is fun to see you waver. To see you doubt."

"When you don't tell us anything…then you go back into the cell you came from. Solitary for you, for however long you were sentenced to, you've got to know that."

The grin didn't vanish, but Natasha could see the moment it turned forced. "Probably, yes. But if I tell you, I will be taken back, too. Maybe I rather go with the knowledge to have dragged you with me into the abyss."

You don't actually know anything." Natasha took a step away from the cage, threatening to leave. "You were locked away somewhere, all by yourself. You can't know why they're here."

"Maybe this was planned so you would bring me to earth and they could free me," Loki countered. "Maybe I do not know anything. In this case, though, you should check what your court and your leader have done this time to attract attention. A tricky situation, Agent Romanoff."

Now it was Natasha's turn to smirk.

Loki had almost had her back there. He had made her waver, doubt herself, and maybe, he had even tricked them back with the Hulk…but she was sure that this time, she had nailed it. Loki didn't know.

"Could be, yeah. But I think we're wasting our time with you."

She turned and walked back to the door, pulling it open. Behind her, she heard Loki moving, too, and barely withstood the reflexive urge to turn.

"You know, you are right!"

Loki's voice ringing after her made her stop and look over her shoulder. The man stood, again, with one hand pressed against the glass now, an ugly grin contorting his features.

"You are wasting your time asking questions about the Chitauri," he said. "The one you should be afraid of is their leader."

The sound of his laughter followed her out, ringing in her – and everybody else's – ears long after the door had fallen close and he had stopped in favor of meditating on his bed again.

* * *

 

Loki stopped laughing very soon after the spy-women had left, probably to conference with her mortal friends now that he had shown himself not only uncooperative but aggressive.

Aiming to bruise her ego like that had been a crude way to get rid of her, thoughtless, and Loki was cursing himself for it already – he had given her the possibility to guess what he had wanted to hide for a little while longer: He did not know how they might have come…or what they wanted.

But as much as she had found out about him, the talk with Agent Romanoff had cleared more for him. Probably a lot more than she had planned.

He had been worried about the possibility the Chitauri might come, but until she had told him, he had not even been sure if they were really here. He had not understood why they would take the time to have petty discussions with him and each other if they were under attack.

Now, he knew and slowly but surely, worry became panic.

They had not attacked yet, but they were ' _present_ '. They had to be watching, maybe gathering information the mortals had not wanted to give away – nothing else would explain why they suddenly needed him.

And there was the problem.

The Chitauri were not mindless. To be valuable in battle, they had to be able to make independent decisions, they knew when to strike and when to seek cover to a certain degree, but overall, they were merely drones connected to a hive far away from battlefield, made to overrun their enemy without actually caring for loss and death.

Spying and meticulous planning was not in their repertoire.

But now, they were…it could only mean Thanos was not only giving orders, he had taken control over them and that was even worse than what he had imagined before. It meant Thanos would come personally.

And when Thanos came, he would come like a storm, destructive and without mercy.

And the humans would not be able to stop him.

_I have to get out of here. Before he comes._ Since the second Romanoff had told him about them, this was all he could think about. Therefore, maybe the way he had gotten rid of her had been crude, but effective, too.

He had made clear that he was smarter that they had believed, torn the spy's former victory apart and now he hoped building up a new strategy would keep them occupied for a while, because what he was about to do would cost time.

With long steps, Loki all but rushed back to the cot and sat down close to the wall. His eyes wandered over the ceiling, the walls, the cameras, the steel frame.

There were no air holes he could use – Loki knew that without checking.

He knew the trick form Asgard, the healers and teachers had used it when containing dangerous or poisonous animals. Some of the runes were meant to suck fresh air in from the outside, as not to let the captured subject suffocate.

Also, he had controlled the magic-binding net a few more times, hoping that he had been too confused to be thorough the first time. He still had found no gaps.

So, he had to rely on something else: He had abilities that they did hopefully not know about.

Loki leaned back and closed one hand around the cot's wood frame behind him, carefully checking if the blanket and his leg concealed how his knuckles and back of his fingers touched the glass. His eyes un-focused as he set on his new task – a task that had to work perfectly.

A thin layer of ice spread on the glass. Loki's fingers clenched as he concentrated on it, forced the ice to stay below the bed, thus hopefully out of sight, instead letting it spread downwards until it created a thin, not entirely smooth line reaching from his fingers to the point where the panes creating wall and floor met.

Unfortunately, they fit together perfectly. There was no blade or even paper thin enough to fit between them.

Loki bit back a curse. Those humans had been more careful than he had thought possible…but he had not reached his wit's end yet, either.

The ice contracted on the floor, as close to the wall as possible, forming something resembling a spike or a thorn, the tip hopefully pointing on a rune. Loki steadied and positioned it until it was touching the floor in an angle…then he let it strike down.

Nothing happened.

Before he could lose his patience, Loki let his head fall back, forcefully calmed his boiling emotions and thought, but it did not help. He always reached the same conclusion: It _had_ to work.

He had seen the Jotun's blades effectively blocking their weapons, seen them effortlessly tearing through Fandral's armor, skin, flesh and bone. Their primitive maces had, even though they had taken damage, not immediately shattered under Mjölnir's blows. Thor had beaten a hole into this kind of glass with Mjölnir before.

Technically, he should be able to at least scratch the glass. Then _why was he not_?

Loki felt anger and frustration creep up, panic following shortly after, threatening to choke him. This had been his last resort.

He almost gave up. It was his stubbornness that saved him as he let the thorn strike down once more in a sharp twist, just on principle. There was a tense moment as he felt the pressure in every fiber….

And then there was a harsh sound.

He could barely believe it, not even after checking twice, but it was not the ice that had been damaged. There was a scratch in the glass.

He felt a grin rising and hastily wiped his expression blank. Now he knew what to do.

Still reluctantly, he let himself be overtaken by his long lost instincts. The connection to his little creation intensified as his fingers and part of his palm were conquered by Jotun blue. It spread with a strange, tingling sensation, unfamiliar but not uncomfortable at all.

A wave of disgust and self-loathing followed that thought, anger at the people who had forced this onto him in its wake. Exactly what he needed.

He focused on the connection and pumped all those destructive emotions into the thorn, turning them into something tangible, then he struck down again, pressing and twisting against the glass with all the force he could muster.

It took time, at least thirty minutes, enough to let him break out into cold sweat with exhaustion, but finally, finally there was a high, splintering sound.

Loki's eyes, that had fallen half-close as he had concentrated, now flew wide open. He froze, hands shaking in their death grip on wood and blanket, muscles rendered useless by the tremors that ran through him.

He waited, waited for guards to rush in, for some magic defense he had missed to jump into action, punishing, stopping him from trying again….but there was nothing. They had not noticed. Good. Unfortunately, also nothing else changed, the web still seemed to be in place.

He was already thinking that it had not been enough…

And then. And _then_.

The gap he had slashed into the magic-repressing net was only small, but it was enough. A tiny spark of magic squeezed through, eager to reconnect with his body, spreading warm and cold somewhere deep in his chest.

It was coming home after atrocious battle. It was water after years in Muspelheim's fiery deserts, cool balm on burning wounds, everything pleasant and comforting.

Loki shuddered again, but this time with pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to use it, let his magic run free and erase all signs of exhaustion, let it burn away this feeling of _unreality_ that was still nagging him, but he kept himself in check. Instead, he waited, feeling his power slowly dripping through the gap like sand in an hourglass.

If he managed to hold on for another few hours…if they did not notice the hole in their cage for that time…he might have a chance to escape.

Loki felt his heart starting to race, his blood pounding in his ears, his head was light and spinning with this incredibility.

After all this time of helplessness, he had a _chance_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, practically end of part one, if you want.
> 
> I'm kind of…not entirely content with the chapter, but I've been working on this conversation for over a week and no matter what I try, it just worsens, so…what we should take away form this is that now, Loki finally goes from passive victim to active player. So, who's up for some mischief?  
> Reviews and constructive critic are appreciated!  
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten


	11. Could Mean It Began

"The one you should be afraid of is their leader." Clint repeated sarcastically. "' _Their leader'_. Talk about a Napoleon complex."

"I'm pretty sure in this case, it's Cesar Complex," Tony chimed in, but was ignored.

Steve stared at the screens, frowning deeply. "Are we sure he was talking about himself? I mean, an army doesn't run itself, there had to be someone in charge before Loki came around…or while he was down here, preparing the invasion."

"Yeah and somebody has to run this…whatever this is right now," Tony muttered, now absolutely serious again, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He had never been this glad to have invented his 'suit'-case. "He ever mentioned someone else?"

Thor sighed and let a hand run over his thick mane. "I always suspected there was somebody else behind all this, but if there is someone, Loki did never say anything about them…not until now."

Well, of course not, Tony thought. He wouldn't give up the people offering him an army, either…or even say 'I'm just the bagman, here'.

"You know…"

The team turned to Clint, even Natasha, who had been staring at the screens until now, probably wondering if he really had been playing her. If it hadn't been so dire, Tony almost would have admired Loki's ability to wind people up.

"He never said anything, but there were times when he was staring into nothingness. I thought…well, I didn't think about it, but he was moving his lips sometimes, as if he was talking to somebody."

"So he probably was in contact with somebody." Bruce's fingers were worrying his glasses, opening and closing the earpieces.

Natasha frowned at the screen. Loki sat on his bed again, eyes unfocused and muscles tense. "Did he look like this?"

Clint's hand was on his bow and Tony reached for his 'special suitcase', not thinking about the fact that they could not stop him from mentally talking with weapons, but Thor stopped them before they could headlessly dash.

"Those runes block every energy-projecting abilities Loki possesses, his magic and his psionics, his telepathy included. He cannot be in contact with anybody who is not within reach of his physical senses."

Clint didn't look convinced. "How sure are you?"

"I am sure of it. Every power that is not physical is being blocked from getting out or in."

Tony slowly set the case back on the floor and dropped into a chair, feeling as if he had been run over by a whole pack of Monster Trucks. He was used to stay up for two or three days at a time when building, but that was usually supported with a scotch and a bathtub worth of coffee, not nerves and adrenalin.

"All right." Natasha tore her gaze away from the screen and swiftly walked up to the table. "So, he doesn't know anything, lets the' leader' slip to keep us interested, so let's stay interested in what's important. How do we play this now?"

They were discussing for maybe an hour, maybe a little longer, comparing their knowledge over the Chitauri with the flimsy pictures of the mothership Tony's suit had saved right before the connection had died down and the information SHIELD had taken from the dead drones, but nothing told them anything about any outward force.

Nothing to hold over Loki, no pictures that would verify or belie the hint he had given them. It was god-damn frustrating.

Finally, Tony threw his phone on the table. The projected picture of the army floating through space flickered at the impact. "Listen, I agree. They all were connected to a big server coordinating them, but this is not going to help us. We don't have the tech to find or trace that…whatever it is in any way."

Clint sniggered, his humor slowly coming back to him. "Are you telling me we've found something the great, one-and-only Tony Stark can't build?"

"Well, I could if Fury would just let me see the samples," Tony complained piqued.

"You keep telling yourself that."

Tony opened his mouth to send out a barbed joke when Steve knocked on the table. "Guys, I know we're all annoyed and tired, but damn, just focus for a little while longer, all right?"

Tony snorted. "Focus on what? We don't have anything more to focus on and we can't just run back in there and ask, he'll never take us seriously if we keep stumbling in like Laurel and Hardy every few hours."

Clint gave a bark of laughter in time with Thor asking "Like who?" and Natasha raising a brow and saying "You really think he might take us seriously?"

"Well…" Tony started, but Bruce cut him off with a raised hand. "Do you hear that?"

They all fell silent and the heavy steps that had been drowned out by their voices suddenly rang through the room astonishingly loud. Steve had time to say, "That sounds like a whole battalion," then the door was smashed open with enough force to hit the wall. A man in SHIELD uniform and a readied rifle looked in, behind him, men and women clothed just the same were rushing down the corridor.

"There's been another sighting," he said. "Two of them, in a block right in Queens."

With that, he was gone, and in their observatory, all hell broke loose.

Tony was cursing and activating his suit before he had turned fully away, his wording more or less similar to what came out of Clint's mouth. The rest wasn't all that mouthy, they simply did a quick check of their arsenal while Bruce unbuttoned his shirt, getting ready to shun it quickly.

They were out on the corridor as fast as possible, rushing towards the main control room. Tony listened to his own, heavy steps and the high whirr of the suit's joints and suddenly asked himself if that was smart.

Loki had said ' _maybe they want to free me'_ , after all.

He did not voice his worries, though. It sounded too…implausible. Nobody would be stupid enough to let something like this slip if it was the plan.

The main room here was more quiet than in the rest of SHIELD's bases, but it was full enough to make the heavier Avengers look as if they couldn't turn without tumbling something. Still, Fury came to them without even brushing a table.

"I warned you this would happen," he snapped at Thor, then turned to Natasha. "How far have you come with him?"

Tony didn't doubt that Fury had watched them talking all the time and immediately got angry, but Natasha preserved her cool.

"Bad news," she said, her voice perfectly professional, almost toneless. "He might not know anything more than we do, except maybe who leads them when he isn't there."

"You have nothing new." It was no question at all.

"No. He was completely isolated for the last fourteen month. The only thing we could get from him is the name of a leader and maybe a location, but he hasn't given them away yet."

"Great. Just…great." Fury grabbed one of the screens and turned it around so brutally he almost ripped it off. On it, there was a street that looked like every other block in every other big American city, complete with cars on the streets and curtains at the windows…except for the two men brushing past, their appearance flickering from time to time, revealing grey and gold.

"Here is your result. We checked the buildings history and the history of every single former and present inhabitant and came up blank. So now you are going to fly out and see what you can find."

Tony frowned. He remembered what Fury had said about testing strategies very well and if they were gone…

"And you are going to do what, exactly?"

Fury rolled his eyes. "Your pet psycho is not in danger as long as I have to chat with the World Council, so go!"

Tony was not convinced yet, but on the other hand…he saw Thor giving Fury a hard stare and decided that not even the director ever would be stubborn enough to get in a fight with this man just to get his will. No, Fury wasn't that stupid.

Hopefully.

He turned and walked out with the others, none of them willing to keep discussing and wanting to find those things before they could cause any destruction.

"So, first it is a SHIELD base, then it is the World Council, information on armory and defense and leaders and now a downtown block? What the hell do these guys want?" Clint grouched angrily, fastening his bow.

"Well, maybe Fury has some missiles hidden there somewhere," Tony muttered, only half in joke.

"Or they want to distract us from something," Natasha offered, sounding a little worried for all those who could distinguish emotions in her tone.

They had almost reached the yard, Steve had already thrown the door open when behind them suddenly the light bulbs at the walls began to flare in an angry red, pulsing in time with the shrilly howling siren.

Tony groaned. "Oh, what now?"

"Are we handling the Chitauri or this first?" Bruce asked, a tinge of green already visible in his eyes.

It was finally Steve who made the decision, mentioning for them to follow as he turned back to rush down the corridor they had just come from, already expecting the worst.

* * *

His magic pooled through his body, twirling and pulsating in a rhythm with his heartbeat. He had never before realized how wonderful it felt.

Too wonderful.

Loki expected them to find out what he had done and storm in to overpower him before he got his powers back. He expected them to come in to hand him over to torture before he had enough power to defend. He expected this unforeseen luck to run out every second.

So far, nobody had even opened the door and he did his best to remain inconspicuous.

Ever since the second he had broken the sealing, Loki had been sitting exactly at the same spot, back leaned against the wall and fingers folded in his lap.

Using his emotions as tangible weapon had taken its toll on him. He had broken his mental walls, left himself open to every feeling and thought he had tried to shield himself against. The result was that he felt shockingly raw and vulnerable.

Thus, sitting still was a challenge.

Every fiber of his being wanted to escape this. Wanted to find a hideout. Someplace he could bring his mind back in order undisturbed, far away from this, where nobody could surprise or hurt or shock or threaten him. Alone. Someplace _save_.

But he had to remain still. If he controlled himself just a little while longer, he would get what he wanted.

_It is almost impossible to think that I was wishing for somebody to talk and hoping I was supervised_ , Loki mused, _when right now, all I want is to be unwatched and alone_. On the other hand, he had often sought solace in isolation and now that he had allowed his biggest flaws in, he needed it more than ever.

He knew he could not bear seeing Thor in all his perfection while still feeling the reminders of his own blemish tingling on his skin.

_Stop thinking about that. Focus on what is important for you right now. Step for step._

Sighing, Loki let his head fall back, opened his eyes and looked at the walls surrounding him – the ones behind the glass.

He could see only smooth white, but did not doubt that there was massive stone hidden behind the color. Probably too thick for him to break through, he decided. As should be the window and the door at the far wall, not to mention what waited behind. They would not hold him somewhere he could easily smash or fight his way out, not even when thinking him locked safely.

Not that he would need to. Loki knew very well that he would be able to vanish the second he stepped out of this cage. Maybe not too far away, not after so much time of not practicing, but it would be enough.

But first, he needed a way out.

He had been thinking about breaking the glass with a blast, but he did not dare to. He was not sure if the glass would break or repel his powers. No, he needed to find another way and that meant…

Eyes narrowing, Loki eyed the steel framing the front pane. Suddenly, he regretted it deeply that he had spent so much time with the glass and the runes instead of focusing on that…but, the whole steel was on the outside, pressing the panes together.

_It has to be fastened in the stone somehow, then_ , he thought. _And if I just have enough time, I might find the rivets or bolts holding it there and open them…_

Before he got any further, the hard sound of boots hurriedly marching in step tore him from his thoughts. Loki did not have to wonder about the meaning, he knew the sound of a gathering force by heart.

His muscles tensed and his heart beat faster, ready for everything, but he controlled himself before he could move, inclining his head slightly to listen.

The steps got louder as they passed his room and went on without stopping. He almost relaxed when he heard the sound of a door being thrown open instead. Loki's head snapped around so sharply the muscles in his neck hurt, but there was nobody there. Instead, the voices in the adjacent room suddenly rose, there were more steps, a door slamming, people rushing down the corridor that probably was on his right and then…

…nothing. Just silence.

Loki sat frozen, slightly leaned forward as if about to jump up, wide eyes fixed on the door.

They had left. Something had pulled their attention and they had just gone, left him alone and probably as good as unguarded. He had already been planning how to free himself and vanish within a few seconds as not to get into a fight with the Avengers…and now _they had left_.

He could not believe his luck.

It was only after he had reveled in that unexpected turn of events that he realized he had probably come from the frying pan into the fire. If not only foot soldiers but also the Avengers were needed and he suddenly was forgotten…it had begun.

With one fast, fluent move, he was back on his feet, pressing himself against the wall he believed the corridor behind and closed his eyes to listen for the clashes, screams and here, also shots that would announce battle, but he was only met by silence.

He did not consider that a good sign yet. It might be that he was underground and too far away, but that would not protect him for long.

He needed to get away.

Loki felt how agitation and panic soared through his veins, his nerves, threatening to shut down every rational thought. He had hesitated to long, been to careful, too _nervous_ to open the gap further and fasten the process and now he stood here, not enough power re-gathered and…

_No. Enough of this_. _Stop and_ _ **think**_ _._

He had to wait. They would hold out for a few more minutes and he had to…

_Oh, by the norns…_

Mentally cursing himself, Loki strode through his cage with long determined steps. He chose the far wall, the one that – if they actually _were_ underground – was touching the earth. Dampness would help him here.

Loki steadied himself, raised a hand and touched the place where the two panes touched. He took a deep breath…and let his magic flow.

The runes tried to repel it, but Loki had enchanted knives, arrows and specifically daggers ever since he had been old enough to get his hands on them. Manipulating steel came practically natural to him.

It actually was heavy, thick bolts that had been slammed deeply into the stone. He focused on one, twisted and changed the metal until he saw a tiny bit of dust raining down. He increased his efforts, let his worries and his panic amplify his powers…and then, he saw a gap, not wider than a leaf's rim.

Loki grinned.

Sweat was covering him and he was getting a headache from the strain, but it had worked.

Now, everything went stunningly fast. Once again, his fingertips tingled, became blue. Ice wedged itself into the gap, filling it and thickening rapidly. The steel made a strange, groaning sound. Cracks run over the walls, plaster burst off and the frame began to lean forward, pulling the glass along as the ice spread into both directions, forcing the gap further open.

More damage than he had planned. He knew he had to be fast now.

Dust rained down on him as the ceiling cracked, too. Loki stepped back, swaying with exhaustion, but he could not stop yet.

He pressed both palms against the leaning pane, focused all magical power he had left and pushed forward. For a moment, nothing happened, then Loki let his right arm give way and slammed his shoulder into the glass.

There was a loud, horrible shriek coming from the frame, painful in its volume. Thick plates of color and plaster fell, dusting him in white, stinging in his eyes and then, the whole construction fell and Loki stumbled into freedom.

If before had been wonderful then this was sheer, absolute bliss.

For one or two heartbeats, Loki could only stand there, revel in the feeling of his magic fully returning to him, finally burning away the nagging feel of unreality…and then, an explosion of color and sound violated his senses.

Instinctively, he flinched back as a siren began to howl and red lights suddenly flashed. After seeing mostly grey and white for the past year, he was absolutely not prepared for something like this, could only stand there, hands half-raised against something he could not fight, too stunned to move, feeling as if somebody would drive an iron nail into his skull.

The door flew open and four men rushed in, immediately firing at him.

The noise was horrible, even louder than he remembered it. He fleetingly considered fighting them, but then he felt a sharp, painful sting at his shoulder and that did it.

There was a flare of green and gold, and then the men's rifles were pointing at nothing but thin air.

He did not go far, only outside of the building, where he stood for a moment, looking around and taking in the scene. He was gone again before the men on the yard could recover from the shock of him suddenly appearing between them enough to aim at him.

Next, he appeared in the only place on Midgard he knew well.

The cellar system was cold and dark, the air smelled like mold and dust, but that was exactly what he needed now to recover form his own shock and the headache the sudden light and sound had caused.

The pain in his shoulder still was there and as he looked down, he saw a cylindrical object with something resembling feathers protruding from his chest, right beyond the clavicle. He dragged it out and revealed a needle.

He crushed the thing between his fingers and measured that most of the liquid would course through his veins now. He felt no differences, though. It had probably no effect on him.

Shifting his attention, he let his gaze wander. There were lost and forgotten items laying around, plastic sheets were still spanned between the columns, marking the spot his lair had been last time he had been here.

Loki let himself drop, leaned against a column and looked at the thing with the needle again before throwing it aside and wiping his hand at his trousers.

There had been nothing. .No army, no horrible destruction, no screams, no battle. No Chitauri, no Thanos. Nothing but a night sky covered with thick, grey clouds.

The night sky.

In all the confusion and fear, he had looked over it, but now that he realized he still had time, there was no Thanos hunting him yet, the most astonishing thing occurred to Loki.

He had not seen daylight yet, but the _sky_ …breathed actual fresh air, felt the wind and a beginning drizzle on his skin.

He was free.

He was cold and hot, his head ached horribly, he was shaking and his knees felt too weak to stand up, but still, Loki took a deep breath and let it out as shuddering laugh, full of wonder and astonishment and beginning joy.

_I am_ _**free** _ **.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And cut!  
> ... yeah, I couldn't resist writing the scene from two perspectives again. I realize it's a little…strange with the Chitauri suddenly running in the open, but I can assure you, it's not just a trick from the author to get Loki alone, it'll all make sense in the future!  
> In this case. it is Cesar Complex, by the way, 'a pathological need of power'. Just so nobody shuns poor Tony^^  
> I hope you all enjoyed! Reviews and constructive critic are appreciated!
> 
> Thanks to you who left kudos and comments and thanks especially to you, my constant, faithful readers!
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten


	12. On The Move

The team was assembled in the former laboratory that now looked like a construction site. They had formed a loose circle in the dust-covered cage around the place where the cot had sat. Now, it was shoved aside, revealing the splinters that had been hidden underneath - one of the enigmas Loki had left them with.

Steve was sitting on his heels, arms on his knees, but now he reached out to touch the hole in the glass floor. "It goes right through one of the runes."

"How could that happen?" Fury stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed and fingers tapping on his arm. With his solely-black clothes, he looked even more imposing than usually in all the bright dust. The few agents in the room nervously bee-lined around him, trying not to get in his line of sight.

Tony could not blame them. He, too, had never seen Fury looking this close to losing control.

"You said he would be powerless behind those walls."

"And he should have been." Thor was not looking at Fury, but at the frame's rim. Seeing the video of Loki's escape, he had thought the stuff still covering it as a thin layer was ice, but it was too…stable. Too cold despite the continuously rising temperature. "I do not know how he could have broken through."

For a moment, Tony wondered. Whatever that stuff was, it meant something to Thor, so could it be the man was lying to them?

But he didn't want to start arguing with a friend in front of Fury, especially as he still wanted to support said friend, so he shoved the thought aside for the moment and turned back to the conversation. They could talk about that later.

"Especially without us noticing," Natasha let her fingertips slide along the sharp edge to its origin. "Looks almost like chisel marks or something. We never saw him move this thing, did we?"

"Or holding a weapon," Bruce added. "He couldn't do that by hand."

"So he did it per magic." Fury gave Thor a meaningful look. "Something he shouldn't have been able to do, as _someone_ here assured us."

Slowly, Thor definitely had enough of the accusations. "Something he should not be able to do inside a flawless net. Even the smallest mistake could have given him enough room for something like this."

"Are you saying this is our fault?" Fury was all but snarling by now.

"I am saying that maybe, you were too hasty and made a mistake," Thor growled back, sounding no less imposing.

"Hasty? It's not your world that is on the line here, it's mine. And if you had not been so hell-bent on protecting a delusional, ruthless killer, we would have known everything we needed long before he did this."

_Delusional, ruthless killer_ , Tony sarcastically thought. _Smooth one, Nicky_.

Aloud, he said, "Right, guys. Childs and wells remember? So why don't you two continue this conversation once we talked about how we get him back?"

"Get him back?" Clint scoffed. "He's probably halfway across the globe…or the fucking universe by now."

"Excuse me, Sir…but I don't think that's the case." One of the agents – or soldiers, maybe? – had taken a step forward. He looked seasoned, but when solely being in the focus of a whole band of superheroes and a few of his bosses' bosses, he shrunk into himself.

"And what exactly makes you think that?" Fury barked at him.

"One is missing. One of us must have taken a hit." The soldier slowly raised his fist, holding something colorful up. Tony frowned, stood up and closed in, trying to see what it was and then…

"Stun darts?" he asked incredulously, almost amused, raising his brows at Fury. "Really?"

They did not even look like the modern, tiny darts he knew, but more like those he had seen in old movies before, like syringes with bushy flight stabilizers – two yellow, one red - on one and a short needle on the other end.

Fury tore them from the soldier's grip. "Tranquilizer darts equipped with Adamantium needles and filled with a highly proficient sedative. What's coursing in his veins right now is enough to take out every human in this room, so even he should lie flat right now. For a few hours, at least."

Turning sharply, Fury started to yell instructions, ordering his people to form groups. "We start with his former headquarters and set a perimeter of at least twenty blocks all around it. Coulson, Hill! Hack into surveillance cameras, cellphones I don't care what it is, at long as we have eyes on everything! Send out agents in civil, too. And check every hospital in case he collapsed somewhere in the open."

Hill and Colson, whose face was harder than usual, nodded and left the room, waving for some of the people to follow them, ultimately leaving the Avengers alone with Fury. The director stared tensely at them, growled, "And you make yourself valuable somehow, too," before stalking out.

The Avengers watched him leave silently, then Clint said, "That still doesn't explain how Loki could run, though."

Tony rolled his eyes. As if that would help them along right now…but he could understand Clint, too, so he decided to keep it shut.

Bruce sighed and put his glasses –now decorated with white prints - back on. "We put a lot of pressure on that glass. If it contracted or moved a few millimeters or something, would that be enough?"

Thor shrugged slowly. "Was it everybody else, I would say no, but with Loki…he is capable of incredible things if he is determined enough."

"Good." Steve stood up, too, dusted his hands off. "Now that that riddle's solved..."

Fury might be too angry to consult Thor on his brother, but the rest of the team was not…just as they didn't really believe one syringe-full of simple sedatives could knock Loki out. Other than Fury, they had seen how easily Thor withstood any form of earthly poison and why should it be different with the younger brother?

"You know Loki best. Let's say he's still awake, probably weakened. What will he do?"

"He will go to a place he knows first."

"So he will probably be in this cellar he was in last time," Steve concluded. "We should go there, too, then and…"

"But he will not stay for long," Thor interjected. "Loki knows we know this place and he will be gone before we come to confront him."

Natasha crossed her arms. "Will he leave the city?"

Thor shook his head, then shrugged. "I cannot say. He might run as far as he possibly can and leave the planet, but I do not think so. He still should be too weakened to reach any other realm than one of this nine and on most of those, his face is fairly known. He would be taken the moment someone discovered him."

"So he is running free somewhere in the city," Clint muttered. "Great. Just…fucking great."

"Shouldn't he… stand out?" Tony asked. "Even for New York's standards, dressed like that he sure should make an impression."

"No. If he decides to stay out in the open, he will make sure to look midgardian." There was a deep worry in Thor's voice, but also a slight tone of appreciation, maybe even a hint of pride that the man just couldn't hide.

Natasha frowned, staring at the holes in the wall...and then something hit her. "We might have a bigger problem," she slowly said.

The rest of them turned to her. "What do you mean?" Steve asked worriedly.

"There was something, I noticed that before with the people who...with victims of deprivation. It's pretty obvious in the video, how he flinched away from all the sound and light as if it would scare or hurt him." Seeing that she still received incredulous looks, she rolled her eyes and went on. "That was one siren and he was already freaking out."

Tony closed his eyes flutteringly when he got where Natasha was getting at (remembering how overwhelming the city had been after the weeks in Afghanistan, actually). "And right now, he is in the middle of New York City."

Clint suddenly looked worried. "You think it will be that bad?"

"Well I sure was confused when I woke up and saw all those cars and screens and neon lights everywhere," Steve admitted. "So, Thor, you think he'll react violent?"

"I cannot say," Thor said again. "Loki's first reaction to confusion or fear usually is to withdraw. If he is faced by a person, though….if he feels cornered, confronted in any way, he will fight all the more vehemently."

So they had an agitated demigod getting violent when he felt cornered and a hardcore bunch of agents and soldiers hunting him down right in a tight, noisy civilian neighborhood. Tony tried to rake a hand through his hair, remembered his suit in the last moment and settled with a sigh.

Suddenly, he was feeling very tired.

"Then we'll have to catch him before there are too many people on the streets." Steve's voice took on its commanding tone that had the strange ability to send the rest of the team into immediate action mode. "We fan out, try to get eyes on him. Stark…"

"On it." Tony flicked out his phone and switched it on. "Jarvis, hack into every camera in the whole city. Run the footage of the past thirty minutes, too. Watch out for Loki. And stay on all of SHIELD's frequencies, I want to know every move Fury makes."

"Will do, Sir," the smooth voice replied immediately.

Tony thought about cutting the connection, hesitated and added, "And tell Pepper not to leave Miami until I tell her its save. Tell her not to leave, no matter what she hears or sees on the news."

"Certainly, Sir."

He cut the connection, stared at the device for a moment and prayed Pepper would listen to him – this was promising to become ugly soon, if not through Loki, then through the Chitauri, and he wanted her out of the way, as far as possible – then he pulled himself together, straightened up and put on the helmet, following Steve outside.

Loved ones brought into relative safety, there was no time for any more thoughts and doubts. The team set into motion to leave the facility and fan out over the city as good as possible.

* * *

While the Avengers discovered and discussed his breakout, Loki already was on the move.

After all the frenzy, he wanted nothing more but to stay in the cellar's darkness for a while, planning his next move, but he was not stupid. Two of the humans working for this Fury had been here for a long time, had maybe shown it to the others and it would only be a matter of time before they would search it.

So, he reluctantly stood up and immediately noticed something was not right. He stretched out his hand to steady himself against the column when the dizziness he had not noticed while sitting hit him. For a moment, the world tilted, then he had himself back under control and the sensation vanished.

He was not sure if it was from exhaustion or the poison, but it meant the same: He was not able to take them on yet, thus he had to leave.

Focusing on every motion, he managed to dust himself off and weave a magical veil that would protect him from being seen – he did not plan on keeping that for long, though, he was feeling too dizzy still. He would look for someone whose clothes he could copy and then blend in.

With that plan fast in mind, he set into motion, swiftly moving through the cellar system and then through the dim-lit streets of the still mostly sleeping city. The drizzle was not strong enough to soak him, and instead of making him freeze, the cold soothed his headache and countered the dizziness and, for once, Loki was not bothered by that.

He moved according to the plan, steadily and without hesitation…until he reached a main street.

When he saw it, Loki stopped dead, freezing completely.

It was…sheer horror, the cars that noisily rushed back and forth even now, the bright screens showing colorful pictures and words that had no context or meaning for him – nobody ever had explained the concept of advertisement to him. He almost turned his back and walked away, but forced himself forward, right into the colorful shine. As long as he kept his head down, it was manageable.

It did not help against the… _pressure_ , though. He was used to the wide, splendorous constructions on Asgard and these block-like things reaching into the equally grey sky made him feel dwarfed, contained…

He truly wished he could be in an open field where he would not feel the pressure of those stone walls closing down on him from all sides, but he knew they – and the crowds that hopefully were to come – would be his best protection against discovery (and against an open attack, of course).

Still…he wished to leave this noisy place with its lights and stink far behind.

Sighing, Loki rose his gaze from his boots, not high, just far enough to see the vibrant lights blinking distortedly in the puddles on the sidewalk, creating a twisted picture of the city lights around him, then as it did neither worsened his headache nor hurt anymore, he curiously looked up higher, up to the sky. It was brightening slightly already…but it could just be the city's brightness reflected in the clouds.

A loud, humming roar caught his attention. Loki had learned to recognize it as a car's sound and averted his eyes from the headlights…and his gaze caught something else instead.

In the short flash of light, he could see the shelves behind a windowpane, some of them obviously loaded with food, some bearing things of unknown purpose. Loki took all that in with one glance, but dismissed it just as fast, because the room was dark.

In the darkness, the pane was a mirror.

Slowly, he stepped closer, until he could see more than the street and a dark figure, that was not much more than a distorted blur, until he saw a tall man, his face hidden in shadow and his build concealed behind thick, black fabric. He watched the man raise a thin hand, saw him hesitate, saw the hood being pushed back.

It was the first time Loki saw his own reflection since the fleeting glances he had caught in the steel and glass Midgad's cities were so full of.

It was the first time since almost two years that he actually examined it.

The first thing he noticed was that he had lost some weight – he had indeed known that, but he had not known it was visible. It undeniably was. He was alarmingly pale, too…probably the effect of being inside too long.

_Do I actually look this miserable?_

Frowning, Loki tried to smooth his perturbed hair….and suddenly, he froze, staring at his reflection wide-eyed.

Now that his hair was no longer held back by gel, it fell lightly around his face and neck, slightly curling at the tips, and loosely combed back in a style that matched Thor's, it actually gave him a slight resemblance to his not-brother.

_Except for the color_ , Loki thought, letting a hand wander over the strands again, closely watching as the half-stranger in the reflection did the same _. But then, we never truly had anything in common, especially not physically. Not even our blood. Nothing._

Apart from their eyes, maybe. They both had blue eyes.

If, maybe, Odin gave him those eyes to resemble Thor more, to give reason to believe they were related? Or had his skin remembered what it should look like and held on to a color of ice?

Loki shuddered and hastily tried to shove the thought aside. This was the wrong place and most certainly the wrong time and the Jotun's eyes were not blue but…

_...red. Completely_.

Loki cocked his head aside in contemplation.

Never when he had used his estranged Jotun-abilities had he wondered if they would become overall red, too, but now he did, tried to imagine himself when this red gleam shone from his eyes, from a face with a darker complexion than he had now.

He only stopped himself from smashing the glass by remembering it might alert somebody to his presence.

He could not stop the wave of loathing that washed over him, though, and suddenly, he did not want to stay here. Did not want to keep looking at himself.

With tense, jerky movements, he pulled the hood up again, stuffed his hair under it, turned and marched away, muscles taut and shaking, fingers moving to create a weapon and he balled them into a fist instead. He had used this cursed blood too often in the past. It was _affecting_ him.

_Thor must have seen it. On the cage. He knows what it means. He knows you can…._

"Forget him," he growled lowly. "He does not matter." But as much as he tried to convince himself that it was true, he could not help the tinge of shame mingling into all the anger and loathing as he moved on, trying to make it through the night.

* * *

The morning eventually came, and with it came the masses, concealed by hoods and umbrellas. Sometimes, they would store sometimes throw suspicious glances at the uncountable agents, black cars and even a few helicopters roaring above, but mostly, they minded their own business of hastening from doors to cars, from cars to doors, from store to store.

Loki did move among them, watching and, once again, could not help but to think from above, the city must look like an anthill. Then again, maybe that was true for every town.

A faint smirk appeared on his lips, letting his eyes sparkle for just a moment.

Loki's mood had not exactly improved over the night, but his condition had. His ability to think clearly came back and even the noise of the flying machines circling high above his head was only annoying, no longer overwhelming to him.

As if on cue, one of those things roared past and Loki lowered his head, carefully looking around. If he was the only one facing away, he would look suspicious…but he was not. Only few faces, many of them those of children, turned upward to look. The rest did not react, they kept walking, running, talking.

Almost disbelieving, Loki let his eyes wander over the crowd, over people in tight, impractical clothing that he knew would hinder and slow instead of protect in fight or flight. He remembered the fatality of the sheer mass, how the cars became either death-traps or obstacles during an attack.

Yet, those people behaved exactly as they had before the Chitauri had come, moved in the same way, dragged their unprotected youngest with them in the open. They behaved as if…

Loki frowned again, slowing his steps, his eyes widened in what he thought was sudden understanding.

He had heard the gathering forces, had heard the mortal team leave in a hurry…but that could have been for another reason, maybe one of their own criminals. And they had left other guards, the men who had fired at him…and then, the was those people bumbled around…carelessly…they behaved…

They behaved as if they would not fear a coming attack.

But why did they not, when the Chitauri were moving among them again? How could they be so without fear and care after all the pain and death of the last attack?

It was incredible, impossible and Loki felt the sudden, bizarre urge to laugh _._

_Could it be?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the end of chapter twelve!  
> Again, sorry I took so long. From now on, I'll be posting more swiftly again^^  
> Next time…I guess, we'll have a look into what Loki plans to do next, now that he has the possibility to (of course) and soon, we'll have another look into Asgard, too (it's about time!). And of course, there're some confrontations ahead…  
> I hope you all enjoyed! Reviews and constructive critic are appreciated!  
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten


	13. All The Wrong Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tiny bit trigger-y..though more for the characters than for the readers. Still, mentions of deaths will be menetioned...or something like that.

The observatory's destruction had not been enough to keep Heimdall from his post. He had stood under the open sky right at the Biföst's splintered edge watching the rest of the realms, but now that their main way of traveling was the Tesseract, his place was at the golden gates separating the open Bifröst from the city, where he would handle until a way to repair the bridge was found.

And that was where they found him, with his back turned towards them, staring into the far-away space with never-blinking eyes. Both hands rested on the gigantic sword hat had been swung nine times since the day Heimdall had taken it into possession, eight times victoriously and one time not, as he had raised it to swing it futilely against Loki's neck.

As they closed in, Sif reigned in the horse hard and jumped off before the animal had stopped, walking the last feet to the Gatekeeper.

Heimdall did not even turn his eyes from the nebulas ahead as they apprehensively approached. He only said, "If you hope to travel after Thor, I cannot help you."

Sif took a deep breath. "You know why we are here."

"You should not listen in on talks on the street. Neither should you listen _to_ talk on the street." There was a final note to Heimdall's tone that usually ended conversation, but none of them was willing to back down this time.

"Not usually, maybe, but this was more than common rumors. This was two confidants, one of then a known, honored man, talking about a shared secret and you must understand we need to know if what we heard was true."

There was a long silence. They waited, shifting nervously. Deep inside, they all hoped Heimdall would just say no, of course Loki is no frost-giant …a simple, open 'no' that would leave their world intact.

Instead, Heimdall said, "Even if there was anything true in their words, I would be bound by oath and honor and could not answer your questions."

No straight answer….but all of them had heard Heimdall's - and Loki's, for that matter – veiling half-answers often enough to know a hidden 'yes' when they heard it. Still, as badly-hidden as this yes was, even the clearest assumptions were not enough. Not this time.

"Heimdall, you have found a way around your oath before." No reaction. Sif took another deep, calming breath, but her voice stayed unnaturally weak. " _Brother."_

The silence that followed was unbearably tense, and though it only lasted for seconds, it seemed to stretch for an eternity.

"About this matter I can tell you this," he finally started, a little hesitantly, "and _solely_ this: Sometimes, talks that were not meant for stranger's ears do concern the truth. The one man concerned by this one does share much less with your friend and his family than their appellations might imply."

Sif felt as if somebody had emptied a bucket of cold water over her head. Before, this had been a faint idea, but now…she was not sure what shocked her most, the fact itself, being lied at for so long, never noticing. But whatever it was…this went against everything she knew.

"What…it is true? Does…who, who else knows about that?" Fandral stammered. Volstagg shook his head and said, "If that is a jest, good Heimdall…" Sif, not able to speak yet, made a sound between a laugh and a gasp.

Heimdall did not react to any of that. "I will also tell you that only very few people know of this and I would advise you not to change that."

Sif gaped in disbelieve. "You…tell us to _lie_?"

And this time, the gatekeeper turned to look at them, quite an impressive sight, even for them, who were used to Heimdall towering above them whenever they had ridden out to travel somewhere far away.

"I do not tell or order you anything. I gave you a council that you should, for our own and other's safety, take." He took the time to look all of them in the eye, staying on Sif the longest, then he turned away.

"You will return home now." His golden eyes unfocused, a clear sign that he would not say anything more.

Sif turned and looked at the men, who all looked as shell-shocked as she felt, then she brushed past them and made her way over to the horses. She had just closed her hand around the reins when something else flashed through her mind.

"Will you tell Odin we came here?"

There was no further answer, not even a sign she had been heard. Feeling a strange mixture of anger, hurt and confusion burn through her veins, Sif pulled herself into the saddle, impatiently waiting for the others to get ready, too. She was not sure where she wanted to go…she knew she wanted to get away from here right this instant.

As soon as Volstagg finally had swung his leg over his heavy battle horse – no racer was strong enough to carry his girth – Sif spurred her horse on, rushing down the streets with breakneck speed, instinctively taking course on the stables.

She was not thinking clearly, in fact, she was so occupied with putting her world back in order that she only realized Fandral was trying to get her attention when he leaned over and seized the rein he could reach.

The horse's head was pulled aside as Fandral reigned both of them in. For a moment Sif felt her leg being squeezed between the two animal's heavy bodies, then they fell into a slower gait and drifted apart, almost pulling Fandral off his saddle, thus forcing him to let go.

"What was that about?!"

Sif glared at him with the power of all the frustration and confusion she felt twisted into anger. The venom in this particular stare had been enough to make even grown warriors shrink back from her in the past, but Fandral knew her and stood his ground.

"We are within the city's borders, Sif. I know you are upset, we all are, but you cannot barge through the streets like…"

He had been about to say ' _Like a Frost-Giant gone berserk_ ' but managed to swallow the words before they came out. Sif was staring at him still, now inquisitively.

"Like what, exactly." It was no question.

"Like all the beasts of Muspelheim were chasing you!" he bit out and Sif snorted, turning her attention back to the way and let her horse speed up again, settling for a fast trot. She was not in the mood for riot acts, even though they were justified.

Behind her, she could hear the others following her, for once without squabbling. 

* * *

 

At the stables, Sif threw the reins to the next-best boy, made a few, long strides and stopped again, unsure what to do.

Her first instinct was to go to the training grounds and exercise herself until she was too tired to think. Then she thought about riding back to force Heimdall to bring her to Midgard, so she could confront Loki himself…or, even better, Thor.

Instead, she followed the men inside, up to the broad hall they had sat in so many times after quests and fights, They were silent still as they all heavily dropped onto the settees, facing each other. They all were looking tired, as if they had done something much more difficult than a little training and a sharp ride.

"Do you think that is why he brought the Frost Giants here?" Sif asked after a long while of silence.

Fandral sighed and leaned forward until he could feel the fire's heat on his face, placed his elbows on his knees to stare into the flames. "But why would he have killed Laufey, then? That is not..."

A thought came like a flash and she doubted it – shunned it, even – within the same heartbeat. But this was one of her big flaws: she always needed a vent, something to release her anger on, and as no one was here, she released it in an idea. Maybe later she would cast aside this concept but until then…

"Maybe," Sif icily undercut him, "once he knew what he was he wanted their throne together with ours."

"He did not kill both kings at once, though," Hogun muttered. None of the others was entirely sure if it was musings or a simple statement.

"And he tried to destroy their planet," Fandral added, almost defensively. Sure, he had not forgotten or forgiven yet…but something deep within him rebelled against this idea.

"Who said he did?" Sif asked.

The men exchanged glances. Even Hogun's usually expressionless face showed some confusion…and then, his eyes widened just a little.

"Think about it," Sif continued, her voice low, as if that would help against Heimdall listening. "He brought some rouges in, he brought their king and his men in, what if he opened the Bifröst to let their army in next?"

"There was much destruction on Jotunheim," Volstagg slowly said, but it sounded unconvinced.

Sid scoffed and made a sharp, dismissive gesture, her hand cutting the air in an unusually trembling, fluttering gesture. "He miscalculated. The bridge responds to the powers of Heimdall and Odin, not of Loki."

"Sif, he hated them," Fandral started up again, what gained him an almost relieved nod from Volstagg. "Just like all of us, _he hated them_."

"That did not keep him from letting them _into the weapon's vault_ at the coronation." She threw her hands in the air. "By Hel, maybe he just pretended all the time, who could tell?"

The men were silent. Fandral was worrying his sleeve, the only sign of the inner fight he gave away. From the corner of his eye, he could see Volstagg's fingers restlessly combing through his beard and vaguely wondered if the man was having the same thoughts as he had.

He did not want to believe that Loki, a man he had known for centuries, could have tried to overrun his home with the force of a hostile planet. But that was the problem: He had not wanted to believe that Loki could have betrayed them, he had not wanted to believe that he would get Thor banished, that he would ever be their enemy… would ever try to kill them.

"Do you think Thor knows this?" he asked loudly, half to change the subject, half to drown out his own thoughts.

"If he does, I'm going to break his nose," Sif muttered, making it sound much less like a joke than like a threat, then she sighed. "I am not sure. He did behave a little…strange whenever Loki was mentioned. On the other hand…"

Again, that fluttering, nervous gesture and they all knew what it meant. Thor openly hated the frost-giants and he openly loved Loki.

"We'll just have to ask him," Volstagg decided and Fandral laughed humorlessly. "If we do and he does not know, we will have to tell him," he reminded the others. He tried to imagine _that_ conversation, but he did not manage to.

"As his friends, it would be our duty," Sif said forcibly calm and nobody could deny that. They would have to talk to him, inform him if necessary and they would do it when he came back from Midgard.

Still, for the first time since they knew him, none of them actually wanted Thor to be back soon.

* * *

Not quite two days after Sif and the Worrier's Three had left for their homes, still struggling to understand the revelations they had just received, Loki stood on a street in the middle of Manhattan, struggling to understand what he believed to be a revelation that came almost as a shock to him.

It was…unbelievable, impossible even….but Loki thought it had to be right.

Probably. _Maybe_.

He could not believe he could have been played this well by the mortals, especially as he had thought them to be quite hasty and ingenuous when they had tried to question him, so much he had not thought it might be a ruse…but still…

Once again, he let his gaze wander over the crowd, over men and women, uncaring and unarmed. The small restaurants Loki had, through their experiences, learned to be dangerous during an attack with their lack of space and exits, were full of people who did not seem to be bothered by the potential danger they were in.

Almost fascinated, Loki stopped and watched them for a moment, too, before the smell of some bitter brewage, melted butter and sizzling fat, a mixture that woke both nagging hunger and sickness, became too much and drove him away.

On the other hand, it could not be any different.

Loki was not sure if he should be impressed or angry. Maybe both.

He knew that Odin and his court had lied to the citizens sometimes – he had told them Loki was his son, for instance – but he had never left them in the dark about a war or an attack that could threaten their lives, he had always given them time to prepare, to protect themselves and their loved ones. Thus, Loki, who had no idea of human policies, could read only one meaning into the human civilian's behavior.

They knew they were not in danger.

Fury and the Avengers had tricked him – well, he had to admit, but that was no excuse, either - and he had fallen for it like a witless oaf. He had actually believed the Chitauri would threaten Midgard again, even when all they wanted was located on Asgard.

_Is this actually possible? Is it_ _**plausible** _ _?_

Deep down, he was not convinced at all. The spy had described the Chitauri's behavior in a way she could not have known and, overall, he did not see a reason why the humans would have taken the risk of bringing him back into their world when there was nothing they had to worry about…but then…

Concentrating, Loki let the conversations he had had with the humans since he had been brought here run through his mind again. It had been Romanoff to first say 'they are here', but then, she was a masterful liar. And Thor…he had focused on him instead of the humans' – supposed – problems...but…

' _You cannot want them to come here', that is what he said._ _ **To come here**_ _. Not 'They are here'. Not 'you cannot want them to kill so many again'._

And Fury…he had asked what they wanted - maybe pretended? - but despite the urgency and the threats he had never carried out, he had not stayed on the topic, had left and allowed slow, dragging questioning…he must have had a reason for that, as surely they had absolutely none to spare him. In fact, even before, he had said…

"I want to know everything," Loki whispered to himself. "Everything."

_And what does everything mean?_

They had tried to make weapons from the Tesseract itself…and now that it was no longer within their reach…might it be that they had changed their focus onto the Chitauri instead, on the vehicles and weapons that had been stranded here after the portal had collapsed? Was it that they wanted to know from him, how they were activated, how they were steered and used?

_But is it plausible? They could not know if Iwase able to tell them something they could probably find out by testing themselves. Would they risk my escape for such small a chance?_

The answer was no. It did not make any sense. But then, not much had made sense in those past days.

Loki shook his head and sighed. The question whether Thanos would appear here soon or if Thor and his mortal followers would be his only problems was too important to stay unanswered, but he had no possibility to find out yet, so Loki decided to settle for solving what problems and necessities connected those two possibilities.

No matter who would come, he would need to defend himself. He would need to take some precautions.

First of all, he needed a little more time. And he needed a weapon.

Unconsciously, Loki placed a hand over his hip, where the heavy shirt concealed the throwing daggers in his belt. They had always been very reliable, but now that the humans had those needles that could pierce his skin, he would probably need more.

And he did know realms, not only in the nine, where a hunted man could get all the armory he needed.

Loki knew it was risky to leave the realm while he was still so out of practice…but he also knew a place where a path between the realms had been torn open, maybe far enough for him to use it. And the most amusing thing about it was that Thor himself had opened said path for him when he had used the Tesseract to bring them both to Asgard.

Loki looked around, trying to orientate himself, squinting to read the street signs through the rain.

The memories forced onto him in Asgard had done more than wanted. The humans had known the streets of their city in a way he did not and, even though he would rather try to forget, he could use this knowledge.

Moments later, Loki turned and crossed the street in the middle of the crowd, memories and his own intuition leading him to Central Park.

He never noticed the security cameras turning to follow him.

* * *

He had only seen a very small part of the park before, but now, he could see even here there had been damage.

On his way to the other side, he came across a place where parts of trees and rock were still scattered, on one of them, he could even see burn marks.

He also came across a newly-build, not entirely finished place, surrounded by slim trees. Small stairs, guarded by stone lions, led down to a round with a fountain in the middle, stone-horses pulling stone-chariots through the water. They were seemingly galloping, wildly shaking their manes. Maybe they were meant to express freedom and wildness, but Loki thought they looked as if they were fleeing from the mosaic snake winding itself around the outer wall.

He took a decent moment to admire the details, then he hasted over the open space, head lowered.

Due to the rain, there were not many people here, since he had entered the park, he had seen few and met only four, and the lack of a crowd made him nervous. He was an easy target now.

He concentrated and felt for the right place again, but on his way there, not far away from the fountain, he saw something else, something that did not seem to fit in here: Something that looked like it had once been part of a black wall, now surrounded by a floor that was…uneven. Edgy, shimmering at some places.

As if somebody had placed something there.

The former pathway was not far away. Leaving the straight path to look at this contraption was a foolish idea, he was sure of it…but he wanted to know.

Unaware of the lurking men, slowly closing in, Loki turned, moved towards the strange, black construction until he was close enough to see…and to freeze in horror. The wind shoved his hood down, tore at his hair and whipped rain against his skin, but all he could do was to stare.

The object was made of dark marble, a simple thing. Chiseled lines running all around it and golden letters, too small to form him to read from here, were the only ornamentation if you did not count the flowers around the base. Paths spread out from it in the form of rays to a wide marble circle connecting them. The space between them – Loki did not know, but it was, as the rest of the site, paved with the debris of the city – was littered with newspaper cuttings, cards, uncountable flowers and toys and hundreds of pictures.

Loki had no doubt it was a shrine.

He slowly closed in, until he was at the marble circle's rim, shining and slick with wetness, not stepping on it yet. He was close enough now to make out what was written on the cards, to see the faces. Right in at his feet was a picture of a man he – through a woman whose flight he had experienced in the Mindcage - knew.

He wanted to leave, but instead, he slowly walked a half circle around the shrine.

Loki did not know what he was looking for, but he found the man who had burned in his car. He found the pregnant women killed by Chitauri aircrafts…and many more.

He did not find the girl in the pink dress (he refused to call her by a name, even though he was not sure why) but he saw a sign with eight pictures and names on it, saying they all had died when the building they had celebrated a birthday in had collapsed. One of them had been thirty, the rest, except one, not yet five.

Loki felt his throat constricting. Breathing suddenly was hard, almost painful.

He wanted to turn away, but his body did not react. For a moment, he considered walking up to the collective gravestone, to see if he did recognize any names, too, but he did not think he had the right to enter the marble ring.

His eyes found the sign again. _Did they...did fath…Odin want to spare me from at least some of those things? Or is this what was to come…did I wake up soon enough not to have to go through this?_

But before he could think about this thoroughly, a voice rang out from behind him, a deep voice, definitely belonging to a man, filled with cold hatred that gave him the idea this was not actually meant as a joke or taunt.

"Admiring your achievements?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I babble a little much, but I think I have to put an explainer, here:   
> I have to admit I found Sif not the most sympathetic character in the movie, so she always seems to get a little…harsh when I try her, and she sometimes takes the role of expressing what Asgard might negatively feel about Loki, but to everybody who fears (or hopes, sorry, people) exactly that since I first let her appear: I won't go into simple bashing. Still, I also don't feel like there can be a simple "all is forgiven" between them.
> 
> About the city: I think the shrine was necessary to show the other side. Also, I've never been to New York, so I have - and will do so in the future - taken some liberties with the layouts. Sorry, New Yorkers!
> 
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten


	14. Confrontation, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Save for all audience. 'cept Tony's language, maybe.

Loki's body had been frozen completely and there was nothing he had been able do about it.

His muscles had seemed to have petrified spontaneously, holding his body still, constricting his chest until he could not breathe anymore, even his eyes had kept staring, wide open, seeing nothing but a silvery blur, smiling, unfamiliar faces and a distorted mess of colors surrounding it, the blood pounding in his ears drowning out every sound.

And then, there was this voice and suddenly, the world snapped back into focus.

Loki almost gasped with the force the sensations washed over him, the pounding of rain on leaves and stone, thunder rumbling in the distance, sharp winds tugging at his by now completely drenched hair (the burn in his eyes he ignored)…and the faint noises in his back, almost unintelligible breathing, the occasional clink of metal, steps of men who tried to be silent but wore too heavy boots to manage.

He had been surrounded while he had been caught in the horror of memories that were and were not his own, in guilt that he could not admit.

_How could I have disconnected from reality so thoroughly? It had never happened to me, never…not before…_

"If you've got nothing to say, at least show us you your damned face." The man sounded even more despising now.

Loki did not move yet. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the half-circle closing tighter, the men who had stayed in his back now fanning out to surround him completely, their weapons – muted in color, but shining with wetness – pointed at him.

"Hands up and _turn around_ ," the stranger snapped again and this time, he reacted, turning as slowly as possible, even though he did not raise his hands.

The picture he was faced with was more disconcerting than he would ever admit. There were two rows of men, all of them wearing the same uniform – long sleeves and a strange kind of thick fabric that only covered chest and stomach, leaving arms and legs, even the shoulders, free. They all were equipped with two rifles.

Loki could neither see a difference between the firearms, nor did the fabric-armor look efficient to him. He could feel a certain derision raising but he still was attentive. The needles had pierced his skin, if whatever those rifles were loaded with was made of the same metal…

A sound, something that was barely not a snort of laughter, brought his attention back to the man who had first addressed him. He was a little older than himself, his hair cropped close and already highlighted with gray, but his shoulders were broad, his eyes hard and the hands that held his weapon were steady.

Loki immediately recognized him as a warrior with much experience…but then, every tendon on his hands and wrists was visible and his face was….perverted with his teeth showing and his eyes ablaze.

"So _you_ are the monster responsible for all of this."

_Monster_. _Once again_.

It was a word he had been called before, many times, by the people who had died in this city - though only in a collective, thrown in with the aliens they had seen - and, he supposed, by most of the survivors and, deep inside, he understood.

_And it is not as if they were not right, more than they could know_.

It was, by far, not the first time this thought had come to him, but that did nothing to blunt its edge.

He had no time to dwell on the sting, though. There was a sharp sound, a flash as one man fired without waiting for a command. Loki's hand came up with incredible speed and caught the object – another cylindrical needle - mid-flight, but it was not the only one. While he had been focused on the leader, the others had gotten ready.

Two shots missed him even if he had not moved – aimed too carful, to anxious not to miss their fellows - another one he dodged, swishing a step aside. He was certain it had looked ridiculous, but that musing, too, had to be delayed: The next projectile hit the stone right in front of his feet, missing his boots by mere inches.

Half-angry, half-worried, Loki grinded his teeth as he backed away a few steps. He had nowhere to go. And they did not hesitate to fire, as they had not to fear to hit their companions should they miss.

He needed to break out, to reach freer grounds. Otherwise, his death or captivity were only a matter of time.

The underground changed, became slippery. Loki risked a small glance and realized he was standing on the marble already, slowly being backed up against the gravestone and that thought, the idea of standing on this monument sent a flash of horror through him.

Maybe that feeling had been visible on his face, maybe it had been the glance, but the lips of the man pulled upward into a grimace that was halfway between a snarl and a grin, an expression of grim satisfaction.

"I bet they'd be happy if they knew we would shoot the monster who killed them down right on their names."

Loki was - sadly well - used to sneers being directed at him, but not did not make it any less angering for him. Especially not when they came from a human who did not dare confronting him without a few dozen of his companions in his back.

Sharp retorts and taunts were on his tongue, yearning to be spoken, but Loki remained silent. It was hard to admit, but he did not trust his voice yet (it might tremble, break, reveal too much). Instead, he retreated into the behavior that he had displayed many, many times in the past: He visualized his disdain.

He suppressed the Jotun blood making itself aware with this small, tell-tale tingle in his fingers, focused his magic instead and enjoyed its familiarity, the easy way it flowed through his body.

As his rifle's butt suddenly shifted, changed its texture and color, the man's sneer did not vanish immediately. It was only when the change reached the muzzle, that he saw it….and the sneer became a grimace.

Eyes, suddenly so wide it looked as they would fall out of his head should they get any wider, stared at the wet, smooth skin of an animal that looked like a cross of a snake and an eel that twisted its neck to stare back with pale eyes bulging over an ugly, teeth-filled snout.

For several heartbeats, every eye was trained at the former weapon, every man was as frozen as he had been before. Then, he threw the gun away with a shriek, several octaves higher than his voice had been before.

The illusion broke when the metal clattered onto the floor, but that did not matter any longer, because the man also jumped back and crashed into his fellows standing behind them, sending them tumbling and that was all the chaos Loki needed.

With a speed he had not even thought himself capable of anymore, he moved forward, breaking through the human's lines by showing some of them harshly into each other and there, for a moment, he hesitated.

It felt….humiliating to run from humans and the remains of his pride – wounded badly, maybe, but still alive and still strong – almost did not allow him to…but he had to vanish before the Avengers had time to appear here.

Decision made, Loki focused and raised his hands, palms facing forward. Some of them flinched at the motion…stared as nothing happened….and then the air was suddenly filled with the sound of surprised gasps and cries as their gun's belts, usually used to strap them over their backs, suddenly reared up to wrap themselves around arms, chests and necks, pulling tight to lock limbs and twist the muzzles away from their target.

Loki took just a tiny moment to relish the sight, then he spun around and made his way back, deeper into the park.

He was not sure how far he had made it when he realized that there was reinforcement waiting, he only knew that suddenly, there were things shooting past him, one barely missing his face, something tore through his hair, yanked a few strands out. He ducked, firing energy streaks into the direction the missiles had come from, but there were too many.

He was being circled again, on a far greater scale than before.

He needed to think fast….but he was not able to. His thoughts were spinning, his blood pounding in his ears and he could not think…now he couldn't even outsmart humans anymore, what would he do against something stronger…he did not even know where he was anymore.. Panic started to raise and slowly tightened his throat….

… _Stop. You were surprised once, that does not mean you are beaten._ _ **Think**_ _!_

There were soldiers all around him…but there, to his right, there was a gap in their rows. Muscles tensing, Loki bolted and sped up, weaving in and out between the trees and bushes – known territory, far better than the streets and buildings - carefully avoiding the humans trampling clumsily over the wet ground.

Later, he would think that his big mistake was turning around. He looked back to make sure he had not caught the attention of anybody, took a step back…and then, there was a husky yell in his back, a sharp sting in his upper arm.

Reflexively, Loki jumped aside and suddenly, he stood at an edge. For a few moments, he was struggling for balance, then he jumped as not to fall…and suddenly, it hit him.

The gap in their rows had been there because they had moved around the place with the fountain instead of passing through it, the place he was standing in now…on a lower level than his pursuers.

He had not escaped. He had only managed to back himself into an even more proficient trap.

* * *

It was seven o'clock in the morning, the clouds still hung low, the rain still fell in a spraying drizzle and Tony Stark officially was in a bad mood – and this time, he had more than one good reason.

First of all, he was tired. Second, he was tired of flying around, looking for a magician who had, for all he knew, hidden out of town. Third, he was tired of SHIELD sabotaging him.

Not enough that they had locked their frequencies against him, they also had locked down the entire city's surveillance system. As they had separated at the SHIELD faculty, he had tasked Jarvis with hacking the security cameras and street surveillance cameras all over the city, just to be made aware that both was completely inaccessible. Being who he was, he had immediately tried to hack in.

Several dozen tries later, Tony had started to use his visor to zoom in on every guy even remotely looking like Loki (and he had not spent some time staring at some blonde while at it, thank-you-very-much) while Jarvis had been tasked with getting them visual of the streets in the only way possible – hacking into every single camera individually – and boy, was that firewall good.

Maybe Fury had actually used one of his, and wasn't _that_ a frustratingly ironic thought?

Now, more than five hours later, they had accessed half the city and there was still nothing crazy-demigod-ish.

"Found something?"

Natasha's voice was still crisp and professional, but Tony could hear the slight frustration sneaking in. She was just as tired as the rest of them.

"Not even a fucking hair" Clint grouched back and Tony almost sniggered. Of all of them, he was the only one actually suffering from the weather – except for the Captain, maybe. "It's like he vanished off the fucking planet."

"I still do not think he is able to right now…but I have not seen a sign of him either."

Tony almost chuckled at hearing Thor's voice over the Com-Link. He wasn't sure if it was because he knew the man, but somehow, hearing an alien who was occasionally called the God of Thunder speaking in his strange, out-fashioned way over a headset was….strange.

"This is useless." Ah, there he was, the Man With A Plan….apparently countering his own plan. Great. "We would be more useful if we assembled somewhere, keep an eye on everything and take off as soon as we have a sign of him."

Tony rolled his eyes. "That's bullshit, Cap."

"Really, Stark?" The unspoken ' _Big surprise'_ that Mr. America never spoke out – maybe even never dared to think – was so loud Tony wouldn't call it subtext anymore. "Well, as you are so familiar with field strategy, why don't you enlighten me…what would _you_ do next? Continue to soar flashing over the city and hope Loki jumps out waving a white flag?"

_Whoa!_ Tony actually felt a little taken aback. The god captain had always tried to sound at least a tiny bit professional with him since they had effectively been declared an official response team. This tone was entirely new – and he wasn't sure if he would take it yet. Half of the stuff that had created, rescued and saved his ass in the past years had come from his family and himself, after all!

"To _enlighten_ you," he started; using the tone he had unofficially dubbed 'You-are-a-retarded-three-year-old-in-comparison-t o-me', "I would stay outside and separated, so that at least one of us can intervene if SHIELD finds Loki _before_ he can use them as punching bags."

"You're sure it's not just you wanting to put up a show?"

"What?" Tony squawked indignantly, but before he could come up with a retort, Natasha's cool voice cut him off.

"Right, boys, that's enough bickering now. We're all tired, we're all pissed, now let's behave like professionals and focus on the problem." There was a moment of silence in the line before Natasha spoke up again. "Any suggestions?"

Ah, well. Trust Natasha to keep everyone in line. Sometimes (when he wanted to strangle the man) Tony wondered why America led the team instead of her.

"Well, not that I don't want to be there when some agents try to kick Loki's ass," Clint finally said, "but without full surveillance, we're looking for a very tiny needle in a fucking huge haystack."

Tony rolled his eyes. Maybe they were right, but he didn't want to give up yet. Not after spending the whole night awake and flying.

"We won't have more surveillance when we're assembled," Bruce countered. Tony was a little surprised hearing from him – the Hulk hadn't much to say, usually – but now his voice was strained and definitely is own rather than the Hulk's. "How far are you with the cameras anyway?"

Tony did a fast checkup. "I've got more than half the city covered by now."

"Well, we can't cover half of New York with our eyes only," Steve answered. "Let's meet at the Tower and finish up from there."

_When did_ _ **my**_ _tower get turned into_ _ **your**_ _headquarters?_ "And then we sit there and wait?"

"I don't like it, but there's not much more we could do right now." Natasha sighed. "Apart from that, maybe Loki doesn't dare to come out as long as we are visible all over the city."

"You are right. Our presence _might_ cause Loki to keep in hiding. He must know he cannot fight all of us after being forced into inaction for more than a year." Tony could hear the resistance in Thor's voice – even though he had different reasons, he didn't want to give up any more than himself.

"And all the black cars and helicopters wont?" he argued back.

He wasn't sure if Loki would notice the cars, but the helicopters were kind of hard to miss with all their noise. Most of them were either painted to identify them as members of either police or hospitals, others were marked with the logos of several different news channels, but he didn't doubt all of them were packed with SHIELD agents and soldiers.

All in all, it was a clever way not to scare the civilians deep below, but otherwise, it was pretty stupid thinking: Loki wouldn't know the difference between news-helicopters and army-helicopters.

He would only see people looking for him.

"Well, they are masked …" Bruce said, but he was unconvinced. "Could Loki distinguish SHIELD from civilians?"

"I do not believe Loki is able to see a difference." There was a tense pause in which Thor was probably thinking about how to phrase his next words. "In the state he is in….Loki will see everything as a potential threat. It will not matter if we are in his sight or not."

"In that case, it might be better if we _would_ meet up in the Tower. We all need some coffee and some sleep. We could work in shifts."

_So much for Natasha being the better leader_ , Tony thought, thoroughly annoyed. Not that he wasn't tired….but he was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep now.

"Coffee sounds great. I'll take the first shift…can't fucking sleep as long as I don't know we've got that crazy bastard in lockup anyway," Clint agreed, but his voice hadn't lost its grim determination. He would probably really stay awake until they had found their runaway demigod.

"To tell the truth: I don't think I can….change again without losing it." Bruce sighed deeply. "This is frustrating me too much. I…I think I'll just….head back."

"I you all are in need of rest, I shall head back now, too." Thor wasn't exactly happy, but by now, he knew better than to overstrain his human comrades. They were not used to whole nights of being awake and stray around in flight or search in rain and cold, not in the way he (and Loki, of course) were.

"Common opinion is: my doors, kitchens and beds are open for all of you, then," Tony scoffed, "But I'll still fly another round. Leave some coffee for me."

"Stark, this team has to work as a unit." There was a tone of exasperation coloring Roger's voice now – they had had this discussion more than once. Even though he had walked his own way once or twice in the past, deep inside, the soldier was used to command-and-obey. Tony…wasn't. "You playing the lone wolf will only…"

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently. "Cut the military crap, Cap. I'm on my way." With that, Tony let the connection die down and stopped, hovering mid-air to think for a moment.

He was a little angry. He would consider just ignoring the fact that he had been outvoted and go for another round over a city, but the thought of Steve Rogers and Co alone in his tower, trying to make his personal surveillance work had him turn on the spot. Dropping a little lower to avoid getting into the helicopters' way, he stretched out flat and made his way back to Stark Tower, raising high above almost every surrounding building.

"Sir, I have a possible hit near Central Park."

Tony almost flinched as the AI's smooth voice cut through the thrusters' hum, but excitement overpowered the surprise almost immediately, even managed to shove aside the fatigue. _Finally_.

"It is a fifty percent match." That wasn't what he had been hoping for, but Tony still ordered "Put it on the screen."

The picture that flared up was slightly distorted. It showed head and shoulders of a person Tony thought was a man wearing a slightly too big Sweatshirt, the hood was pulled deeply into a face that was barely visible – everything that was not covered by the fabric's shadow was hidden by long, black hair plastered to his neck and collarbone, creating a stark contrast to the white skin underneath.

It might be nothing. Probably _was_ nothing, like the three dozen possible hits that had been false – one of them had been a five-foot-girl, for heaven's sake – but still….

Fifty percent were better than everything they had gotten so far.

Tony switched his Com-Link back on. "There's another possible hit in my sector. I'm checking it out, then I'm coming back."

"Stark.."

"It's one look, five frigging minutes! Untwist your panties, Cap!"

_Too unfriendly, maybe_. Natasha was right – they were all sick and tired of all the crap the universe decided to throw at them in the weeks and they all desperately needed sleep – but it didn't keep him from cutting their connection again before Rogers had time to answer and fired his thrusters up, turning towards Central Park.

He was not quite there when he saw the black vans.

Two dozen of them. All moving into the same direction. Moving _very_ fast, too.

"Guess I found something, Jarvis," Tony sing-songed and lowered himself a little. "Bunch of SHIELD agents in heavy gear, all moving up to the park. Looks serious. Check their talk."

"Certainly, Sir."

Through the windows in the car's roofs, he could see one of the agents pointing at him and sped up before he had to give an explanation.

"They are not talking, Sir. Shouldn't we inform the rest of the…"

"Not yet, Jarvis." Tony rose higher again, brushing the treetops as his passed them….and then, he saw them: Agents in full gear, including Kevlar vests and two guns for every man, all of them fanned out in a wide half-circle. In the middle, there was the new fountain, the one he had always found a little too usual – and a single man.

It was impossible…but it could only be him. "Forget what I said – inform them!" He yelled at his AI. "I've got him, Central park, the fountain….tell them to hurry!"

Firing his thrusters to close in, Tony let Jarvis zoom in on the slender, tall man and the screen immediately filled with the image of a familiar, haggard face with eyes that looked very wide and very blue under the dark hair, straggly plastered to his pale skin.

He looked almost…panic-y…and then, the unthinkable happened. Seeing his enemy staring at his hunters like a startled animal (remembering when he had been surrounded like this, weapons pointed at him, hard voices yelling commands, shots ringing around him) he felt a tiny pang of pity….

….and then, the moment was over.

Armor coming to a hovering halt high above the fighters, two hands came up, glowing Repulsors pointing right at the unaware demigod far below.


	15. Confrontation, Part 2

Something – judging by the sound and the flying splinters of stone, something bigger than a needle – hit the floor beside him, but Loki did not flinch. His eyes remained fixed on the men who closed in on him, their shins in one height with his head, ducked, guns readied.

It was surprising how fast he had again been brought into the same situation he had just escaped form, with stone in his back – this time in form of a water basin and horses – and a half-circle of humans in front of him; even the man who had addressed him before was present, the belt still wrapped around him, now without a gun, red-faced and sweating, but with murderous intention written on his face.

In fact, he was the only one showing any feeling akin to anger. The rest of them looked as if they could not believe they had actually managed to back him into a corner…as if they were not sure how to proceed from now on and settled for blank stares.

Loki stared back at them. His eyes flickered over them almost hastily, trying to watch them all – he had been through enough battles to know how important it was never to lose track of his surroundings.

This had to be fast, he was far too low on possibilities. His resources, physically and psychically, were almost used up, he could no longer run, he could not conjure anything big anymore, much less shift himself.

He had only one chance left. Almost automatically, steered only by years of training, Loki's hands flew to his belt, too fast for any human to follow, and the first daggers were flying before any one of them could pull the trigger, burying themselves in shoulders and thighs, the parts not covered by fabric-armor.

Answering shots followed immediately, some of them went wild as the shooters flinched or lost their footing when being confronted with shimmering blurs and the sudden pain….the rest of them he could dodge or avert.

Loki's unsuspected back-fighting did work in his favor. None of them were spouting severe wounds, their hearts and lungs were protected, but the they were rendered incapable of fighting and now that the daggers vanished from where they stuck in their flesh back into Loki's hands, now that blood was flowing freely there was what he had waited for – insecurity, fear, even.

Ducked, still breathing harshly, Loki moved backwards, out of the thick half-circle, glancing around to make sure he would neither be hit nor accidentally walk against the fountain's wall and lose his footing.

_I may be outnumbered, but they cannot defend against my weapons. I can still fight them. They are mere humans. I can win against them, if I make no mistakes now._

But it was not true and he knew it. Sooner or later, he would be hit….or the Avengers would turn up. What he had to do was to escape.

_But how?_

He was too weak for another attack, so Loki went for his best trick, the one that had saved him uncountable times: His illusions. With a thin smile caught between nostalgia, joy and bitterness, a smile that he was not aware of, he raised his hands and conjured up a picture of the most vicious-looking, attention-demanding beast he could think of.

In this case it was Laufey's pet monster, the one Thor had slain so easily, suddenly appearing between them and him, fixing its small, ugly eyes on the humans – he could hear screams and scurrying steps as most of them fled – and roaring out its bloodlust.

The grin that contorted his features now he was fully aware of. With a tinge of satisfaction at their sudden panic he turned on his heel and used what was almost his last strength to rush towards the place's other side, keeping the fountain between himself and them.

_If this keeps their attention for just another moment_ , he wildly thought, _then I will escape without any further…_

The only warning he received was a flash of color, red and gold, somewhere at his left, then a searing force drove into him and threw him aside. He stumbled and his weakened legs gave in, sending him falling. Instinctively, he stretched his hands out to catch his fall….and one of them landed on something cold and smooth that most definitely was not concrete.

For a moment, cold fear gripped his heart and he was sure he would see black marble when he opened his eyes, but as he did, he saw shards instead, mostly blue and green, occasionally red.

Loki frowned at the sight. He could not remember where he had seen something like that before…and then, realization struck him. He had fallen right onto the mosaic formed like a snake that decorated the floor around and partially the walls of the fountain.

A snake.

Loki had, for a fact, never slept with a Jotun woman and he did not have a child, much less a snake-child, but he knew of the myth (though he was not sure who had started it, it might have been Sif after he had erased practically every myth concerning _her_ ). He did not know if those human knew it, too, but…well.

It did serve as an idea – and now that the infuriatingly confident inventor was here, he was in dire need of a good idea.

Scratching the last remains of his power together, Loki reached out and placed his second hand onto what he thought might be colored glass, too, hunching his shoulders a little to hide his hands from the humans who slowly surrounded him as his fingers began to shine with the magic he directed into his palms.

There was a sharp clang as the inventor's fire-spewing boots hit the floor. Involuntarily, Loki flinched at the sound and risked a small glance. Through the curtains his hair created to both sides of his face, he could see his opponent's kneecaps, covered with shining armor, first just standing and then, finally, bending rhythmically as the man moved towards him.

With every ringing step, Loki's body tensed a little further.

He felt horribly exposed cowering before the human like that, especially before this one, whose weapons had proven to be hurtful, stunning even, to him. Just the armor's whirring sound, that was so completely foreign to his ears, raised the wish to jump up, to fight and defend and the rest of the soldiers that slowly encircled him – in a distance, but threateningly enough – did not do anything to ease that feeling…but he knew it had to be.

He could not move until he had finished the spell.

"Easy now, Reindeer Games"

Stark's voice was strangely hollowed by the visor and did not allow him to distinguish between tones, but Loki had no doubt from where it came – and how close the man already was.

"Just raise your hands slowly to where I can see them and then I won't have to fire and they won't have to fire. You know how that works, just like last time."

Loki bared his teeth at that.

He was not sure if he was talking about the other city – Stud-guard? – or about the time they had dragged him up from the floor in the Stark Tower, but it did not really matter to him. What mattered was that even now, after he had escaped their cage that obviously had been constructed for him, the human still thought he could ridicule him.

Loki was distantly aware that the way he was cowering must tell the human he was beaten, but he allowed the wave of anger to wash over him, to bury exhaustion under the wish to prove him wrong.

The illusion in their backs vanished.

Stark's fully armored hand appeared in his peripheral vision.

Under his fingers, the mosaic began to move.

* * *

Tony almost flinched as Loki's hands became blurs. He could barely see the silver streaks that were flying knives, but he saw the man who grasped his shoulder as well as the one whose leg suddenly gave n from under him and that ended his inactivity.

Directing power into the repulsors in his palms only took two seconds, but it was enough for Loki to raise his own hands and…apparently conjure some strange, ugly, _friggin' gigantic_ monster. Cursing sharply – this thing didn't look like it would _feel_ bullets – Tony froze in his position, looking for weak sports….and then he saw it.

The bullets and stun darts fired by the few who had not turned and run away were all passing right through the thing, leaving nothing but a gold-and-green distortion, very clearly visible against the grey-bluish skin. _An illusion!_

"Jarvis, scan that!" he snapped and turned away from the false beast – it wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anyway - to go after Loki instead, who had taken his chance and took off, rounding the cheesy fountain to keep it between himself and the soldiers.

Unfortunately for him, he'd apparently missed Tony hovering high above it.

He aimed his hands and fired off both repulsors. One shot went wild, tearing open the concrete behind Loki, the second one almost missed, merely grazing the demigod. It was enough, though: Loki stumbled aside forcefully, lost his footing and landed on the floor, hands catching him seconds before he could hit the floor face-first.

_Gotcha_. Tony grinned behind the visor and hovered, botch palms outstretched, ready to fire again, awaiting a wild gaze, a snarky remark, a forceful attack…responses that never came.

Loki remained where he had fallen.

Frowning, Tony lowered himself further and further, finally switched of the repulsors and hit the floor. Loki did a strange, whole-body-twitch at the sharp sound, but didn't move. He was facing the floor, his long, wet hair covering his pale face like a straggly curtain.

For a moment, sheer surprise kept him rooted to the spot. Just giving up like this just wasn't something he had expected from the usually so talkative, stubborn trickster…but on the other hand, he had met this guy once before.

As a few seconds without any further reaction to him landing had passed, Tony decided he had waited long enough, lowered his hands and got going. Waiting for his teammates to show up never once passed his mind as he slowly – carefully, still - walked towards the demigod.

Still, Loki didn't turn to him as he approached. The only reaction Tony could make out was a tensing of his muscles, thanks to the thick shirt he was wearing only visible in a slight movement of his shoulder line, maybe in the almost-invisible lowering of his head.

Somehow, this was not….satisfactory.

"Easy now, Reindeer Games," he said half-jokingly, partially because he wanted to draw some reaction (this complete…giving up felt wrong in a way he couldn't really explain), partially because Thor's warnings about how dangerous a cornered Loki could be still rung in his head.

"Just raise your hands slowly to where I can see them and then I won't have to fire and they won't have to fire." He run the line through his head again and couldn't resist. "You know how that works, just like last time."

Loki's head came up a little….or maybe his hair had just been moved by some small breeze. Anyway, it still was no real reaction and slowly, Tony almost got…nervous. Was Loki trying to play him in some way, pretending he was hurt? Or was he actually too tired to even raise his head?

_Well, only one way to find out._

Mentally shrugging, he took the last steps towards the still cowering man on the floor and reached out to grab his arm. As if Loki had sensed it – maybe he had – his body went even more rigid, muscles so taut they were trembling. Tony had time to think ' _Is he scared of me?_ ', then several things happened almost simultaneously.

First, the roaring of the illusion in the background suddenly stopped. Second, his hand touched Loki's tense arm. Third, the trickster moved, not jumping up but throwing himself aside, making place for the thing that – fourth – suddenly jumped up from the floor like a striking snake, heading right towards his visor.

In the spilt second before the thing moved Tony saw Loki's face, eyes still wide, but now madly grinning at him, then something green-blue-red hit his faceplate with the sound of grit hitting metal.

Surprised, Tony stumbled backwards, his arm flailing out to hit whatever was attacking him and meeting something that put up resistance but felt not entirely solid, then the thing was gone from him, hovering at arms-length in front of his face.

He'd been right calling it a snake, Tony realized, now that he could see it. It seemed to consist only of never touching, edgy, colorful dots whirling around as if caught in some horizontal tornado, a hose with a snake's head, equally formed by those dots, lined up narrower to form the head's structure, eye sockets, even a tongue and poison teeth….

_It looks like a three-dimensional mosaic, stones stuck on glass…or hovering in a magnetic field_ …, Tony mused as he eyed his new adversary, and just then he knew what he was staring at. Loki had made a damn ornament come to life. The realization that he was being attacked by this cheesy, _ugly_ fountain didn't help him much, though, as the snake shot forward once more, this time biting at his shoulder joint.

"Jarvis – find me some weak spot!"

Tony punched the triangular head, successfully snapping it aside, looked for his actual target instead….and found Loki almost having reached the stairs. He raised an arm to fire after him, but something heavy – that damned things _tail_ – descended like a whip, forcing it back down.

The motion forced him to spin slightly and, with his new perspective, he could see the snake attacking what few humans had stayed, using its head like a club and its heavy body as mixture of blockade and weapon, pushing and winding itself around them, effortlessly mowing down one after another while its tail still swung into his direction….

"No visible weak spots detected," said Jarvis, smug-indifferent tone never changing. "It seemed to be connected solely by an unidentifiable energy. "

Cursing, Tony fired into it. The pieces he hit pulverized immediately, but except for the fact that now there was some colored sand instead of glass pieces twirling in the air, it had no effect on the thing.

"Damned magic!" hollered Tony as he grabbed the snake's tail instead and pulled to get it away from the unprotected soldiers, but it only resulted in said tail snapping around _his_ arm to drag _him_ away instead, the thing's strange body coiling like a muscle as it wound up his arm towards his neck and chest.

"It can not breach the armor," Jarvis calmly informed him. "But it seems to be strong enough to restrict your movement."

"Oh, you don't say!" he roared back.

At least, the cause of all this trouble hadn't fled the scene yet. At his visor's very rim, he could see Loki standing on top of the stairs, taking a moment to watch how his creation was doing, he could see one of the men sneaking up behind Loki….but instead of firing, the man twined a hand into the demigod's hair and dragged sharply.

Loki seemed taken by surprise for a moment, then he rammed an elbow into his attacker's chest, hard enough to bring him to his knees, then he kicked out, easily sending him flying straight into the fountain where he bounced off of one of the horse's legs and hit the water with a splash.

Cursing wildly, Tony waved at the soldiers. "Get him out!" he yelled over the clatter and scratch of glass against his armor. "Jarvis, _where are the Avengers_?"

There was a short silence. "They are currently moving towards our location, Sir. Mr. America and Mr. Odinsson are due to be here in less than ninety seconds, Miss…"

"Tell 'em to _get their slow asses her right now_!"

He gave the coil around his neck another hard pull. The snake's head flinched forward, mouth open and teeth bared, striking violently against his visor, tail whipping through the air, throwing around soldiers from time to time. Somewhere in his back, he could hear the approaching roar of a motorcycle.

As he threw another glance to the stairs, Loki was gone.

* * *

Already several blocks away, Loki hasted through the crowd, trying his best to blend in. He kept his head down and the hood – now dark-red - was back in place over his head. His hands – trembling, he despised it when he could not get his hands to stop trembling – were balled to fist at his sides. He could still feel the sore spots on his scalp where his head had been torn back by his hair, pounding with his racing heart.

Under different circumstances he might have been slightly amused by this petulant action, but today…the stench of sweat and blood, the sharp pain as his head was snapped back had brought back memories he wanted to forget, had filled him with something akin to panic for a moment….

Loki's hands balled tighter until he could feel the sting of his nails digging into his skin. Not only had a man come close enough to grab him, no, he had managed to sneak up on him, to surprise him, he had let a mere human come close enough to pose a threat and the humiliation this thought brought was hard to bear.

He had been inattentive, neglecting his opponents for amusement…no, he had not been able to sense the approaching man anymore.

Loki took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. In retrospection, he had not been inattentive because he had been watching Stark struggling with his creation. His body, his usually so precise senses, had betrayed him.

It had been close this time, far too close…and he still was not save. In fact, he was even further away from safety than before, as now he was leaving the passage between the words farther behind him with every step he took.

The though brought back yet another wave of anger, but Loki bit it back. In the state he was in, trying to use the passage would have been useless anyway…now that he could no longer teleport or shift his form anymore, a travel between the worlds was out of question.

Maybe it would have been too much for him to handle even before this inconvenient fight…

…and he had fallen far if that was the case.

His nails dug into the palms of his hands, not yet breaking skin, and Loki forcefully tried to calm himself despite the burning anger he was not sure where to direct. _It might have been impossible_ , he told himself, _because you forgot something important, you forgot it because you were avoiding it lately and now you do not have resources left_.

Taking a deep breath, Loki unclenched his hands. Yes, he had made a mistake by trying to spend energy he could not yet afford to use. He had registered, but ignored his slowly failing body. And this had to stop now, before he would even think about his next move.

It did not take him long to find what he needed.

Ten minutes after Iron Man had been sighted flying towards Central Park, a young man, his face mostly hidden, slipped by a cheap store. He did not enter, but stopped for a moment and examined the goods presented outside. Nobody noticed the small flare, as nobody noticed that two things had suddenly vanished from their holder, thus nobody looked after the man as he moved on, soon vanishing in the crowd.

Not quite five minutes after that, Loki perched on a metal seat that was quite uncomfortable, but at least covered, and examined the two things he had stolen – he tried not to think of that, though, being reduced to stealing from humans was almost painfully degrading.

One of them was a bottle, containing some strange, brownish liquid, according to the label a sort of tea. The other one was a brightly yellow bag, a material that he could not quite place, but was, apparently, water-resistant.

Loki tore open that bag first and fished out a piece of the contents.

It was some sort of tiny biscuit, rectangular, flat and with a chocolate-covered bottom, the yellowish color completely unappealing to him, but Loki tried it anyways. It was dry, almost tasteless, apart from the chocolate, but he still ate a handful before turning his attention to the bottle. He had to struggle a little with the screw-lid before he figured out how it opened, but the liquid did taste vaguely better than the biscuits…or maybe, it was simply because he had not had any liquid to moisten his dry throat for so long.

He should have done this before entering the park, Loki mused, pressing his fingers into the bottle and loosening them again to watch how it crumpled and sprang back into its original form.

One of the huge vehicles he had noticed earlier came to a stop in front of him. The woman who had been sitting on the other end of the bench stood up and entered it, throwing him a small glance as she did so. Loki paid her no mind.

_I might even have noticed the soldiers before they circled me_ , he thought, squeezing the bottle once more, but when he recalled the scene at the monument; how seeing it had constricted his chest, flooded him with….had it been horror?...he knew that was not true.

Loki looked up, slowly, took in the mass of cars, the humans still hasting back and forth behind them. They were…humans, short-lived, ignorant and weak. They had been a perfect tool to get the Avenger's interest, to get to his brother's heart…it had been a good plan…but then…

But then, the pain of those shot, trampled, suffocated and burned, the smiling pictures of man, women and children, the hateful words hissed into his ear by an unarmed man, holding himself upright through the grip on his hair would not leave his head.

_I have made a mistake. I should not have directed the Chitauri's forces at them. It was a mistake to attack the civilians._

Loki took a deep breath, silently repeated the words to himself, and gave a miniscule nod.

Yes, he had miscalculated. He had searched a challenge, had wanted to deliver a painful blow at Thor by attacking the world he had come to love and respect so deeply…. The goal had been to conquer, not to extinguish, and he had gone too far in the heat of the battle. Attacked women and children instead of their soldiers and champions, killed the wrong ones.

A small voice deep, deep inside of him whispered that this was not the _entire_ truth, that he was still missing a point, but as he straightened his back and felt the sharp pain in his ribs, the voice was forgotten, new musings taking its place.

The Avengers were a team that Thor belonged to now, an entity that posed a problem…blocked his way to his actual goal, the one he had somehow lost track of…or maybe, he had set himself a new goal, Loki was not entirely sure of that anymore.

What he knew was that he had made a promise to Odin, and even though he might by a trickster and a liar, he had never stepped away from his promises before.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd scene!
> 
> Welcome to the end of chapter fifteen…wow, so many already.
> 
> Well, I think, a few explainers might be due…I know many of you will be wondering about the 'no kids'-line, so to his Jotun lover and his three kids first. I know they are canon in the comics, but there, he's been gone form Asgard longer while in the movies, it's a year between 'Thor' and 'The Avengers'…little time for raising kids. Also, in the movie, he seems…kinda too young for children, he's not married to Sigyn yet and, while he knows in the legend what he is, movie-Loki doesn't and I feel like he wouldn't sleep with a Jotun so…yeah. No kids for Loki.
> 
> I hope it was clear that Loki was sitting at a bus station in the final part. 'Bout what he's eating, I imagined it to be Ice Tea and those mini-butter-biscuits from Leibnitz – it's German brand and I'm not sure if they're sold in the US – and I didn't put in more about it because I'm not sure if Loki can (or would) read earth-letters. And yeah, he doesn't know plastic and screw-lids either…I just can't imagine how he should have learned of them.
> 
> Well, with that settled…I hope you liked this and stay with me until we reach the end! Next time, there's a little more Avengers than in this one and the situation gets a little tighter…until then, stay well and 'til next time!
> 
> Thanks to all of you who clicked on, read, left kudos and comments or even subscribed…so damn many, I squealed when I saw the last count^^  
> Lots of Love,  
> KandyKitten


	16. Without A SHIELD For Now

Even though Tony had fought on it, he had managed, for a change, not to turn the fountain into a pile of debris. Apart from that one spot where his repulsor had directly hit the floor, it did, in fact, look like someone had come along and spruced it up for a children's' movie.

There was colorful powder everywhere, dusting the manes of two horses in red, another one's back in blue, one chariot in stripes that, on first glance, uncomfortably looked like splashed blood, floating on the water in long, lazily moving tendrils, covering some of the fighters in haphazard splatters and, worst of all, it glittered like fairies' dust. Mercifully, it was invisible on his armor.

"You look like one fuckin' shiny Christmas Tree," was Clint's first comment and Tony looked down at himself, feeling peeved. _Maybe not invisible._

He sincerely hoped he hadn't breathed in anything. The filtration systems should have kept the pulverized glass out, but you never knew with magic.

Of course, none of the soldiers had a filter protecting their faces, so at least half of those who had stayed for the last fight were being whisked off in something that looked like a cross between an ambulance and surveillance vehicle.

The one who had taken control over the squads, now that the original guy was knocked out – and the fact that the leader had been the one to fight by hair-pulling did tell Tony a lot about how Shield picked their men – threw a disgusted look at the glitter before frowning darkly at the Avengers. Tony thought he was overreacting just a little. Crushed glass was surely not healthy if you got it in your lungs, but it also wasn't the plague re-awakened.

Well, maybe he was just angry because now he lost even some of those who had _not_ tucked tail and run for their dear lives when the illusion had appeared, to some private hospital. It was bothersome for them, admittedly.

Tony, on the other hand, had reason to smirk. Not only had SHIELD messed up, this time, he was not to blame. Sure, his repulsors had hit the snake more than once, but it had been no one else but Captain Teacher's Pet himself who had done the real damage. Not voluntarily, he had to admit - he had simply held up his shield and the backlash of vibration had been too much for the snake, its first five feet had changed to dust almost immediately.

If you overlooked the fact that Loki had escaped once again, he thought he could consider it a success. It was a very big thing to overlook, but Tony thought it was time to enjoy the little things in life.

The rest of his team looked much less optimistic, unfortunately. Tony tore his attention away from the activity around him, left it to Jarvis to follow their radio and GPS while he fully turned towards the only people here who were not (anymore) on SHIELD's payroll.

While cars rushed to and fro and people doing god-knows-what almost climbed over each other in their haste to get their jobs done, the by now fully assembled, dripping wet Avengers stood in a loose circle in the middle of the mayhem and used it to exchange a few words in private.

"I believe I know now why Loki came here," Thor was saying. His bright eyes were dulled and sorrowful, but Tony could, somehow, understand that – despite everything, it was his brother they were talking about (and he could remember the hint of pity he had felt earlier, even though he consciously forgot about it hastily). Still, he looked at him as expectantly as the rest of them – they just couldn't explain why Loki would come here, of all places.

"Not far from here is the place where I used the Tesseract to bring both of us to Asgard. A force like this, it would have left a pathway between the worlds. It would be faded by now, but I believe Loki wanted to take advantage of the remains to guarantee an easier passing into another realm." Thor sounded positively self-depreciating now. "I should have thought of this earlier."

"Better late than never," Natasha said in a voice that was neither reproachful nor comforting, but already business. "We could set up surveillance, wait here for him."

"I do not believe that is necessary," Thor answered. "He knows we are here now and I do not believe he would risk a second confrontation so soon after the first. Especially not after he got so close to be caught."

"Back to street surveillance, then?" Bruce asked. It was the first thing he had said after appearing here ten minutes ago. His voice was raspy and tired, the voice of a man who had just woken up or would fall asleep in a few minutes, but they all knew it didn't came from exhaustion but from the strain of holding the Hulk back.

"It's not that easy, he'll be warned now," Steve said, brushing some dust off his shield. "He won't just walk around in the open anymore, knowing we can spot him."

"I don't know." Tony shrugged. "I mean, where else would he be?"

"Well, he had no fucking problem finding a hiding space big enough for two squads and a laboratory last time, you really think he'd have trouble this time?" Clint growled. He still held his bow in a hand as if he thought Loki would just appear behind the next car.

"Did he find it or did his mercenaries find it for him?" Bruce asked. His fingers were, like always when he was nervous, worrying his glasses and the sleeves of the horrible Hawaiian Shirt he'd definitely not been wearing when he had left the faculty yesterday.

"I don't…" Clint started.

"Maybe we should discuss this _somewhere private_ ," Natasha cut him off, moving her eyes into the direction of the agents, some of whom had edged closer, trying and failing to look inconspicuous.

"Yeah…but let's tell them about the wormhole first," said Tony in a low whisper, nodding towards the agents. All of them turned to him, staring in open surprise –for a second, he thought one of them would ask ' _who are you and what have you done with Stark_?' He suppressed a chuckle and shrugged. "See, if they guard the secret mystery entranceway, they're out of our way in the city."

"Less interference." Clint muttered, shrugged, too, then he turned and marched over to the row of black cars, calling for the attention of the next best he saw.

"Now we just hope they believe us." Tony sighed and turned to Bruce instead. "Want a lift?"

The physician shook his head and looked around. "No, I got one." With that, he walked off, shoulders slightly hunched, towards one of the agents standing at the sidelines.

Tony watched him go, a small, drenched, mousy man, hair and glasses askew, clothed in oversized trousers that more deserved the label 'rags' and a – probably stolen – horribly-fitting, horribly-colored and wrongly buttoned shirt coming to a halt before a man build like an ogre in an immaculate, black outfit, complete with Kevlar and gun, and pointing at the agent's motorcycle.

He watched them exchange a few words, saw how the arrogant righteousness chiseled into the ogre's features drained out of it along with the color, right before he stumbled aside, watched Bruce reach for the machine's handles and swing himself up, then he turned away, hiding his grin behind the visor snapping shut.

What was good, he saw a moment later, when he was met with the sight of Natasha and Clint getting ready to leave, too, on another – tiny - motorcycle, he sitting behind her, and looking not only extremely uncomfortable and pale, but also ready to shoot whoever dared to make a comment.

Somehow, Tony mused as he fired up the thrusters and rose with Thor as a mesh of black, red, and gold beside him, he could not call on it him. Driving with Natasha was like riding a rollercoaster. Without seatbelts. Standing. Worse, even. Tony knew, he'd done both, after all.

Some of the agents and soldiers turned at the sound of the Avengers readying themselves to leave. The team, already having their backs turned, didn't see how a few of them held up phones or tablets, the cameras linked to computers at the headquarters pointed at them; recording the six heroes' retreat until they swept out of sight, heading back into the city.

* * *

The scent of coffee, pancakes and melted butter filled the air, adding to the relaxation that came from being in the dry warmth of Tony's home, and even though it was actually breakfast-food, Tony couldn't think of a better lunch.

Since losing Loki in the chaos of a badly-planned battle, the team had done the only thing they could – caught some healthy hours of sleep while the never-tiring Jarvis proceeded to unlock the cameras, satellites and secret surveillance to the city, automatically set the alarms and the time controls for the coffee machine and the oven for them before they re-gathered in the huge, renovated upper level.

After their fallout with Fury, Stark Tower had been changed into the Avengers headquarter, Tony mused as he turned away from the projected screens floating in front of him towards the rest of their ' _rag-tag team'_ , as Loki had, not fully inappropriately, called it. _Would have been nice if anyone had asked me before storing their spare clothes in_ _ **my**_ _home. And eat_ _ **my**_ _food._

"You know Stark…" -the sentence was cut off in favor of two loud chews and a thick swallowing - "...being a SHIELD assassin sure was easier than this whole superhero-shebang..." – a slurp that had even Tony cringing – "…but your coffee is almost worth the trouble."

_And drink_ _**my coffee** _ _._

"Where do you _get_ that damn stuff?"

"From a tiny, very exclusive plantation in central brazil," he said, adding a very haughty note to his tone. "Most expensive blend in the world."

"Don't you think that is a little decadent?" Rogers asked twirling the coffee in its cup.

Tony rolled his eyes. "It's not _decadent_ , its _tasty_. And it's all Bio and Fair Trade and whatnot. Thought you'd appreciate that."

Rogers only made a non-committal noise. Maybe because he was still pissed about the little fight they'd had earlier…maybe because he had his mouth full of Tony's pancakes and _decadent_ coffee.

Thor frowned at the liquid. The cup looked ridiculously small and frail in his hand, so frail that Tony sometimes wondered how he could pick it up without immediately crushing it. "What is this 'Bio'?"

Tony sniggered and turned away, leaving it to the rest of the team to explain the concept of non-natural food to the Thunder God, who apparently couldn't wrap his brain around the idea of pesticide and genetic manipulation. Well, they could barely wrap theirs around the idea of magic, so he guessed things were even.

Still grinning into his cup, he looked back to the screens present in every single room of this tower and started the recorded video with a tap of his pointer.

The little video material that they had was mostly satellite footage – there were no cameras in the park – so he could only see the happening from bird's perspective, small, slightly distorted and not complete, but it was better than nothing.

Tony watched how the soldiers neatly split up, the first squad cutting Loki's way off, the second one firing at him, driving him into the direction he had come from…hunting him into the round where the third squad waited to pull the noose close, where they could surround him from a higher position and if he felt, once again, a sting of dismay and pity at the thought of a proud, intelligent creature being reduced to a hunted animal, he meticulously ignored it.

It wasn't as if he himself hadn't seen something rabid in the trickster, too.

Shaking himself from those thoughts – he was too worn out to think about that now, it was night, after all – he went back to considering. The plan hadn't been too bad, he grudgingly admitted, it had been a hunt complete with beaters, gunners and ambush site, against a lesser foe it might have worked and…

_…and how long did it take to set this up?_

Tony felt a frown appear on his face as something – probably anger – constricted his stomach. He put his cup aside and focused, using both hands to simultaneously work the touchscreens, following the squads' ways from SHIELD to the park. And what he found almost left him speechless. He leaned back, staring at the frozen imagines, and tried to phrase a sentence, not feeling the gazed directed at him from the table.

"They knew." Natasha said into the silence.

Rogers looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"SHIELD. Their agents approached the park from tree different points, they were setting up this circle from the beginning. They couldn't have known for too long, or they wouldn't have been so clumsy….believe me, I know." Natasha leaned back and crossed her arms. "But they knew where he was."

"So why don't call us in?" Rogers asked, a hint of dismay at being left in the dark clearly in his voice. "Why risk their people's life when they knew we could probably have caught him?" It was a half-rhetoric question, Tony thought, they all had an idea why Fury wouldn't have allowed the Avengers to help.

"If we don't know what he's doing, we can't stop him doing it," Bruce spoke out what they all thought, waving an almost dismissive hand at Rogers before returning it to the glasses he was worrying once again, twisting them this way and that. "If all had gone according to his plan, we would never have known at all."

"So next time, we have to be there first," Thor said, not meeting anyone's eyes. Tony felt a pang of – this time not unanticipated – pity.

"Still working on it," he assured. "I scanned the energy Loki radiated when he used his magic. If I'm right, and if the scan has worked, I can probably trace that energy…So we could find him almost immediately whenever he uses his magic." He grinned proudly. "I bet SHIELD doesn't have something like that.

"It's not going to be easy without some additional guns in our backs," Rogers threw in and Tony felt like screaming at him for even thinking about SHIELD's good sides when he had finished with them. If there was one thing he hated, it was being used, and that was exactly what Fury was doing: Using them whenever he wanted to bring in the big guns and trying to keep them in the farthest corner for the rest of the time.

"Well, SHIELD's guns were always half-pointed at our backs anyway," he gave back. "The hacking I can do myself. And I tell you one thing, today, they were only in the way. We're better off without them."

The statement was met with silence. They all knew, Fury had too much influence, he would be a certain problem should they work against instead of with them…but certain things could not be forgiven, and he Fury had done too many of them. Their partnership with SHIELD was over, all consequences included.

Tony sighed quietly. He had a feeling that this would get much worse before it got better…and ,so far, that feeling had never lied to him.

* * *

Loki had remained seated in the waiting box for a while, but when the fifth mass-transportation-vehicle had passed, the men and women had started to throw him glances. Loki was still not certain if they had realized he behaved strange or if he simply had overreacted, but he had stood up and walked away nevertheless. It was better to be safe than to regret it later.

Now, he meandered through the crowd once more, head down. His pace was perfectly measured, even though the rain did not bother him, he always tried to get cover whenever possible, but all of this happened automatically, instincts he had spent much time training. His mind was elsewhere, thoughts racing at the speed of lightening.

He still could not fully understand how they had managed to find him, he only could form a vague idea based on what he had seen last time. It was enough to make the problem very clear to him: He could not avoid detection forever.

Additionally, the rain started to subside. Soon, he would have no excuse to hide his face.

Loki rose his gaze carefully and risked a glance. He did not recognize most of the surroundings…but he did recognize the entranceway, leading below the earth. It was a station for the underground system so many mortals had soughed refugee in during the Chitauri attack, and, according to the incomplete map he had of the city, he he had to turn left.

It was true that he could not leave the city yet, but he could use it, at least – use it to vanish for a while.

Not far from here, several Leviathan-ships had fallen, crushing entire blocks under their combined girth. He did not know much about the human's capabilities, but he was sure they had not rebuild all of it. It would be uninhabited, and it would provide shelter.

It was a perfect place to spend the night.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when closing in on the site of destruction was the noise.

It greeted him even from two streets away and when he had reached the fence separating the debris from the open streets, he saw men, some wielding tools, others wielding vehicles, machines unlike those Loki had seen before, using them to crush the debris and carry it away.

Reluctantly, he had to admire the humans' creativity that allowed them to create those machines acting as extensions of their will and strength. The automobiles had seemed impractical to him, but these things obviously were useful. They did not have such things on Asgard…though, he also wondered how beings who created this power just to make their work easier could not create stable homes and defenses to protect their people.

Humans were truly odd creatures.

For a few minutes, Loki stood there, arms resting on the low fence, and watched them working, then he moved on, slowly, fingers tracing the fence in a seemingly unconscious gesture. When he was certain that nobody was watching him, the hand fastened its grip and Loki gracefully pulled himself over the fence, froze for a moment to be sure he still was unwatched…

….then he hushed forward, gliding through the destroyed buildings. Soon, he entered the still-untouched places, leaving the noise of the workers and their machines behind.

Some of the houses here were still partially standing. Loki passed a few of them – he could either hear or see something in them what could be stray dogs and cats, maybe just rats…or humans, homeless vagrants seeking shelter, people who might see, or worse, recognize him – then he found one that seemed empty.

He slipped inside with a dagger half-raised, ready to strike, but the inside was empty save for a few rats that skittered away hastily at seeing him. The only furniture was some kind of a long table at one end and a few seats at the other, the far wall had a broken glass door, leading to a stairway. Careful not to leave visible tracks in the dust – there were tracks already, but he did not know if they were scat of workers, vagrants or people the who had searched for him - Loki passed the room, avoiding the shards as he ducked though the door and inched up the stairs.

Twenty levels of the formerly fifty-leveled building were still standing. Loki walked up to the ninth before first leaving the stairway and found a row of offices, all abandoned and doors mostly open. Each room held the same interior – desks, chairs, sometimes a computer and mostly splintered windows – and he turned away immediately.

It was all too bare, not enough possibilities to hide…and the dried blood on the floors gave him an uneasy feeling.

After some sporadic looks into the others, he decided level nineteen as the best. The ceiling was partially broken, leaving carpets soaked and puddles staining the wood. Here would be no company to worry about.

One of the heavy doors was half-open, but also hidden behind a huge piece of debris that leaned against the frame and wall in an angle, creating a gap that was too small even for a child. Loki inspected it for a moment, then he gathered some strength and changed.

There was a flash of light, then the human form was gone, replaced by a small animal that roughly resembled a marten. It hushed forward to squeeze its body between frame and stone, then it was gone.

Inside, Loki changed back and took a long glance around. It was sparse, cold and the smell of mold had already started to tinge the air, it was far more comfortable than everything downstairs. Here, only a quarter of the window was gone, the floor was covered with a carpet and, additionally to the heavy desk, there was a couch that looked intact.

For reasons Loki did not comprehend, its backrest did face the window, but he still moved it slightly until he was sure he would not be seen, then he scantily wiped the seat and carefully sat down, testing the feel and stability. When he was content, he swung his legs up to lay down fully, facing the ceiling.

It might be a destruction site, a place where only rats and vagrants lived, but, at least, it was saver than the open streets…and Loki had had slept in worse places.

_It will not last long_ , he told himself as he closed his eyes to take some rest, folding his now-steady hands over his breastbone, _only one or two nights…then I will have my strength back. No more than two nights, then I can start anew…and then, they will be the ones to tremble._


	17. And So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, dear Readers, welcome back!
> 
> A little explainer up front: SHIELD followed Loki via the security cameras that were blocked when Tony tried to use them. They knew where he was when he started to walk towards Central Park and decided to trap him there while Tony was still trying to hack them. I left that a bit unclear so it wouldn't bee too obvious in the scene ; )
> 
> A trigger-free chapter. I think. Maybe a tiiiiiiiny bit in the first paragraphs. If you don't like scenes that feel a bit...claustrophobic, for the lack of a better word. 
> 
> Please don't miss the end note. Thanks!
> 
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten

He had barely fallen asleep when they came.

His senses had mostly accustomed to the new situation, but they were still overly sensitive; and after spending a few hours in what was mostly silence – only far-away traffic humming and sometimes the rustle of an animal moving had cut through the silence since the workers had ceased – the sound of people clambering around outside did sound louder than a cannon fired.

Loki lay frozen on his back, staring at the ceiling, hands still tightly folded, straining to hear words, sounds, anything that might tell him who was outside, but their voices were hushed, deep murmurs…a light flashed over the window, paining a brightly white line into the darkness and was gone again.

Careful not to make a sound, Loki rolled off the sofa and inched forward. At the window, he ducked into a half-kneeling pose and carefully gazed down

His night vision was well (better than an Asgardians should be, one of the points that had made him _strange_ ) and he saw them very clearly, men and some women in dark clothing, armed….and leashed dogs.

Loki cursed silently and clenched his hands into fists.

 _Do they know my scent? Can they find me?_ But the answer was clear to him even before the thought had finished. He had spent days in SHIELD's custody, his scent had to be everywhere on the cot.

Men, humans, they were no problem. A human would be fooled by his eyes, maybe lured away, but the dogs…eventually, they would notice, led by their nasal sense. If they were at least a little like Asgard's hounds – they did not seem to have much in common with the wolf- or Spitz-like animals he knew, but then, he did not look like his true nature, either - they would find him.

He had to act fast.

The curtain had been torn off, and Loki wrapped himself into it, hiding the flash as he changed. He had to fight through a thick mass of fabric afterwards, but at least, no one had seen him. The room was much larger now, seemingly endless. He had to be fast.

Downstairs, a dog yelped sharply. Voices followed, forcibly hushed.

He hasted down the corridor, into the first open room. There he shifted again, rubbed his fingers against the windowsill, trying to get as much of his scent onto the stone as possible.

There were steps in the stairway now, becoming louder and louder. The stomping of boots, the clicking of claws. He took a last sprint, changed practically during a flying leap, then he was through, in his real body again, lying on the floor. He was panting, the blood hammered in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out the sound of the door at the end of the corridor opening.

Trying to calm his breath, Loki climbed back onto the couch, drawing his feet up. He crouched down in a cat-like position, prepared to jump, a dagger held diagonally in front of his chest. He was ready.

Lights, coming from hand-held devices like torches without fire, spilled through the gaps between stone and door. Strange shadows danced over the walls and blended him occasionally, but Loki couldn't tear his gaze from the door, watching as the shadows of boots and paws passed him.

One dog, maybe smarter than the others, maybe simply equipped with a better nose, stuffed its snout into the gap and sniffled excitedly, then it suddenly was dragged back outside and replaced by a man's face peering inside.

Loki did, for a fact, have nothing against dogs. Quite the contrary, he suspected the idea of Fenrir had been based on him always secretly feeding his father's wolfs under the table and using them as tracking hounds when riding to a hunt. Still, in the few seconds between seeing the animal's nose entering and the human's face appearing, he cursed their very existence.

The eye, not entirely visible to him as the light spilling in still blinded him, moved, trying to see as much as possible.

Loki's muscles tensed until they were hard as stone and hurt, but his eyes were narrowed and fixed, his hands did not shake. He had experienced the tight anticipation while waiting for battle too often to still let himself be paralyzed by it.

Somewhere to the left, the pack started barking wildly, probably having found the freshest scat he had left. A few tense seconds followed, then the eye vanished from the door and heavy feet walked away, pulling the dog along. He could hear voices, loudened by hectic. He was not certain how long they stayed, searching every accessibly room, but finally, he heard them leaving.

For a while, calls and occasional barks floated up, lights waved back and forth, then even those signs were gone and Loki was alone in the dark ruin again.

He had escaped without fleeing this time, and he had (though he had used more power than he was comfortable with through the changes) come here to let his body rest, but this night, he still spent awake, listening for his hunters to come back.

* * *

The next morning, he was tired, angry and knew he had to do something to protect this place.

He spanned a thin membrane of energy between wall and door to restrict the air flow, spanned a second against the window to keep looks out, then he searched the walls for further gaps…then he simply covered them completely before he stood back and looked around, unsure how to proceed.

He had had no real desire to leave, but there were no sources of either water or food inside (he was not desperate enough for puddles and hunting rats) and both he needed – the security of this place came at a cost higher than he had anticipated.

Walking down the stairs had proven difficult – there were wet tracks all over then that he did not want to smear – but once in the entrance hall, Loki had found that luck had not entirely left him. There were boxes full of food (mostly small snacks like the ones he had stolen before) and drinks in plastic bottles. All of them had been caught in metal spirals behind a transparent cover, but it had not taken Loki long to find out how to twist them so that the things fell into an open space at the box's bottom.

It was not much, but Loki had lived of worse.

After finding sustenance so effortlessly, Loki had become a little reckless – he had went outside and lain a false trail, should the dogs come back – it lead away and not back, as he had flown back in the form of a raven. Now, he was tired again, but it had paid out.

As soon as the workers had been gone, the agents had come back, and from his place, reclined on the sofa with a sticky, sugary bar in his hand, he could hear them outside. So far, no one had entered the building.

The lights went farther away, and soon after, he heard the tell-tale hiss of the inventor's armor closing in. Loki stopped moving for a moment and relaxed when it had passed by.

They were the first problem. Midgard was no longer interesting for Loki – they had not done him harm, apart from the Avengers – his focus had shifted back to Asgard; mainly to its hypocritical king. It should have been his target all along, but now, weakened and without help, he did have no chance against Asgard's forces, especially not if Thor and his new band of friends supported them.

So, the Avengers would have to be neutralized first. He had unfinished business with Thor anyway, and they had been and still were helping him. They would pay for that. He just was not certain how he would accomplish that.

It was humiliating to admit – he should be, yet he was not able to beat them if they combined forces. Also, the Hulk was a beast he had not yet found a way to tame…and Thor…

 _I will have to find a way to scatter them_ , Loki mused. _I will have to create multiple battlegrounds, force them to stay apart so that I can take what I want – I shall start with Thor, and, if I have enough power left, take my revenge on others. And if not…_

But he did not want to think about 'if not'. If not, he was either back in captivity…or dead. And neither of those options did sound appealing.

The flying armor passed by again and Loki dug himself a little deeper into the leather. He did not reach for his weapons, though, he trusted his veils to protect him.

 _This armor's fire can harm me, too. And he is intelligent, more so than the others._ Loki sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position, steepling his fingers on his chest. He had to make it work. He could not fail. Not again.

* * *

Another day and night came and passed, the men following him did not come back and he felt well again.

He had almost forgotten how well it felt to have his magic fully restored. Now, it no longer was the bliss it had been in the first moments, now it was a deep contentment that left him feeling relaxed and settled.

He was confident that today, he could begin.

Again carefully stepping around the tracks, he moved down the stairs, jumped through the open door and into the open.

The sun already had risen, but the air still was fresh and cool. Loki breathed deeply while he climbed over the pseudo-rocks to the fence. No one was there when he easily pulled himself over it. The far-away noise of automobiles and helicopters still was there, but, though it still seemed loud, it but the sound wasn't half as grating as before.

He wondered how ruined he must have been (maybe still was, but he shoved that thought away as soon as it had come) that it had disturbed him that much.

But it was over now. He no longer would be hunted or be forced into the shadows. Soon, he would pay them back for making him crawl and tremble.

Loki slowly wandered towards the bigger streets, this time without even attempting to cover his face – not in any way visible to a not-magical being, anyways. No one paid him attention as he slipped through the masses, trying to take in everything at once….but all he saw was plain stone and automobiles and the crowd. Nothing that he could use for distraction, nothing that could take even the shortest temporary fight for him, nothing…

…and there it was, the inspiration he had been looking for.

In front of one window, he stopped, eyes fixed. This time, it was not his reflection, but actually what was behind that had caught his eye. His thoughts were racing, already playing out a plan that had not existed a minute ago. He needed so little. It was strangely, ridiculously easy….perfect.

Slowly, unconsciously, Loki's lips curled into a thin smile.

* * *

If there was anything Tony really, truly, boundlessly hated, it was waiting.

Three days since Loki had made himself scarce, and ever since, they had been no sign of him. No further pictures, not one sighting, the strangest occurrence ever since had been a rat's head in a soup and, slowly but surely, Tony felt as if he would go crazy if nothing happened soon.

And to make things worse, they had no way of finding the man yet. Jarvis had been trying to analyze and search for Loki's magical signature, but so far, it had proven to be a dead end. There was something in the energy waves he could emit that wreaked havoc with the scanners, not exactly like, but also not _un_ like Thor's hammer distorted then occasionally.

Clint had argued it might be because it was energy from another planet, maybe even another dimension. Tony opposed. He believed it did work on a different wavelength, but maybe because it was no simple energy - it stemmed directly from Loki's body, so it had to have a biological component the machines couldn't see yet.

So, when he had finally grown impatient with waiting after twenty-seven hours, he had sat his own ass behind the consoles and started deciphering the scans himself.

He got a little further, but not far enough to pinpoint an exact location, so they still were patrolling around the city, but so far, there was nothing.

It was frustrating. More than that.

"Why don't you just give up? Fuckin' scans won't do any good."

Tony rolled his eyes. "They said that about the ARK-tech and now look what became of that."

"Yeah, your brain became mis-oxygenated."

And that in his own house. "That's not even a word," he scoffed and buried himself in his work again. "When you're insulting someone, at least use real words, even Doom does it and…." He broke off and leaned closer, squinting as the short distance distorted the picture. "Oh, now, bow to that, ye of little faith."

"Did you do it?" Natasha rose from where she had been sitting on his couch and moved in, eerily silent on the hard floor.

"I did it, all right," Tony answered, too focused to let smugness enter his voice yet. Behind him, he heard steps as the rest of the team closed in, awkwardly readjusting themselves so that all of them could see the screen. "I haven't decoded it, can't tell how it works, _but_ I can find it if he…oh damn"

While he had been speaking, alarms suddenly flared. Two fast swipes and a map of the city appeared before them. Six red-blinking spots marked entirely different places, riverside and in the park even in one of the destroyed blocks, all of them fanning out seemingly without pattern…except they weren't. The seemed to form an irregular circle.

"Is that him?" Bruce asked. His voice was calm, but he had taken off his glasses and his irises were turning green.

"Looks like it," Tony muttered. "The readings fit. But what is he doing at five places at the same time?"

"Unless he isn't there." Natasha's voice had gone back to cold and calculating, her fingers dragged the Stingers higher on her arms. "If that's him, he's set up traps out for us…maybe ambushes."

"So we have to check that out." Clint reached over and seized the quiver leaning against the couch, swinging it over his shoulder. "Museum, Park, construction or streets, what do you want?"

"Those two places are farthest from here." Thor waved into the general direction of two flares, looking at Tony. He talked calmly, but his fingers had tightened on the back of the chair with enough force to make it creak. "We should go there."

"You should," Bruce agreed, opening his shirt's buttons." I'll take the park, less buildings."

"Then I'll take the bridge," Natasha volunteered, throwing a glance at the other two men, who nodded as sign they had chosen their destination as well, before looking at Bruce again. "SHIELD is in the park. What are we going to do about them?"

Tony, who had been getting suited up while looking at Thor with a light frown on his face – he was not usually beating Steve-call-me-leader-Rogers to calling the shots – whipped his head around to look at her instead. _Damn. I didn't think of that._

"Nothing, for now," Rogers decided, finally fulfilling his function as the team's official leader (maybe he'd felt overtaxed in Tony's high-advanced home). "We don't tell them we saw anything and if they come…well, we'll just have to tell them not to get into our way. We're calling the shots this time..." He threw a small glance at Thor before speaking out what Tony called the 'common consensus' the team had come. "…Loki's our enemy and our prisoner and we decide what happens with him."

The corners of Bruce's mouth rose to form a thin, almost sarcastic smile. "I won't discuss with them, then."

"They've got cells, we don'," Clint said, his tone swaying between reluctant and defiant.

That brought a small pause, before Tony stood up and slapped his palms against his thighs, the sound of metal against metal clanging loudly in the silence. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, can we just go now before, I don't know, we miss our chance or something kills someone?"

….and that got the team moving again. They separated, Tony and Thor heading for the balcony, the others to the garages. Thor went first, neither noticing that Tony was frowning at his back…nor that he had possibly seen through his act.

* * *

As they had come to the point where they would separate, Tony stopped and turned.

Thor came to a halt about ten feet from him, suspended in the air by the hammer whirling in a dark blur. His face was still hard, but now a bit of worry shone up. "Is something amiss?"

"No, just checking up witch way you want to take." He was almost glad for how the armor's speakers distorted his voice – there was no chance for the demigod to hear any betraying inflections. "River or construction site?"

There was a small pause, then Thor said, "I shall take the place inside the town."

"Do you?" Tony almost thought he sounded a little harsh – it would not exactly be beneficial to take a fight with the Thunder God now – but apparently, Thor hadn't taken any offence. He didn't say anything either, though, so he had to go on. "Why that place and not the other?"

Thor thought for a second. "I can hardly fight near the river. My lightning strikes might prove too dangerous for bystanders near water. It would betray the cause of this would I electrocute humans in an attempt to save them."

Tony pondered that for a moment. Thor was right, of course he was – should one of his lightning bolts hit the water and carry over to some boats, dozen could die – but something was wrong.

He knew the other man was far from being stupid and didn't doubt Thor looked through more than he had thought on first sight. But still, he was more a man of action than a man of words. He only argued when something was important to him (and sometimes, not even then)…and the way he had wanted to take the furthest point when the Hulk would have made the way in the same time…

He had suggested they should come here and no one but him - and Natasha, probably – had noticed it. There was something about that place that meant something to Thor. And it could only be one thing.

"Loki's there, huh?"

"Does…your machine say that?" It wasn't the worst attempt on playing innocent Tony had ever seen… but it also wasn't the best. It was too late, the tone was wrong.

"You tell me," he said.

The god looked away. "Yes, he is there. I do not know if he hid there all the time we searched for him, but now, he is waiting there…for me."

"Are you sure?" There was no answer and Tony drifted closer, careful to stay out of the hammer's pull. "Thor, are you sure?"

"I am certain." Thor sighed warily. "It is a historical tactic I learned on Asgard…"

"Divide and conquer isn't exactly…"

"It is more than that," Thor cut him off. "If you look at the city, Loki has lain out something that is almost a circle, with one . This tactic refers to a section of an ancient story about a group of people seeking...it is not of importance now. Important is that to beat a warlord, they create five distractions, spreading out from his camp like a fan's ribs, so they can fight him while his army is gone. But, listen, we do not have the time now…"

"So you knew from the second you saw the map! When were you going to tell us?"

"I had not planned to inform you," Thor admitted. "I wanted to…"

"I know what you wanted. Take Loki down on your own," Tony snapped. He was no real team player, but even he had learned to share the really important information with the rest. "So you let the rest of the team run into traps..."

"It is not traps!" Thor bellowed back. "Loki could not use much magic, not if he wants to take the fight with me. They are mere distractions, chaos to keep the Avengers occupied…"

"…while he leads you into a trap, then. Yeah, that's so much better. If you had told us where to go, we could have taken him down together before he escaped again!" The other man didn't answer, so Tony shook his head. "Jarvis, call…"

"You will call no one," Thor calmly said. "You will proceed as we planned, Stark."

Tony had to blink two times before he actually had digested that – it sounded like it came from a cliché movie, but hearing it in real life gave it an infliction that seemed absurdly threatening - and noticed that he had actually stopped the attempt to call up the rest of the team.

He had already opened his mouth to start a second attempt when he suddenly realized he couldn't. He had to tell them…yet, he couldn't. They had no idea yet what exactly Loki had let loose to create his distraction – it could be nothing, but for all he knew, it could be a damned T-Rex – and even fake…

_Some of those 'distractions' are mid-town…a mass panic would be a catastrophe._

"Right. All right. They look for…whatever the hell's out there, but I'll come with you. Let SHIELD deal with the harbor."

"No."

"Damn it, Thor…"

Thor scooted closer, forcing Tony to shift (river-wards, that bastard was getting more clever by the second) to stabilize. "Loki is my responsibility."

"And as you are a member of this team, he is also our responsibility," Tony empathized, noticed how sappy it sounded and added, "as the Cap would say."

Something in Thor's hard features softened. "Not this time. I must go alone."

He was already moving when Tony managed to get in front of him again. By now, he was getting angry – they were losing time they didn't have. "Then how about this world is my responsibility? I can't allow him to meander around here, not after what he did last time. I'm coming with you."

"Loki wants the fight with me," Thor snapped, apparently losing patience, too. "If he notices I am not alone, he will simply vanish and we are left with nothing again!"

"How can you be so sure?" Tony half-yelled back…but, deep down, he knew he could understand both of them. He hadn't wanted to leave it to anyone else, either, he had crushed the Ten Rings by himself, he had confronted Loki in his tower first….he knew what both of them wanted. Take down what they considered their task.

"You heard it," Thor bellowed. "You heard what was done to him this past year, and you do not know half of the story that precedes his attack here!" Very suddenly, and not really to Tony's surprise, Thor deflated completely. "He blames me for much of it, and in part, he even is right to. I…made mistakes. Now let me try to set them straight."

Tony sighed and wished his armor would enable him to fidget…or, at least, had a mini bar somewhere. "Fine. Go. But if he escapes, you'll take the blame."

"I will," Thor said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world, making him sound young and naïve for just a moment.

Despite himself, Tony had to suppress a grin, but the urge vanished as suddenly as it had come. He was worried. Loki had just not seemed…right. Of course, he hadn't exactly been a poster boy for sanity the first time around, but this time…this time, he had seemed like a rabid dog, unpredictable and capable of anything.

On the other hand, he had spared the soldiers, and that was what caused Tony to let Thor go alone.

He was already firing up his thrusters to take him forward when he suddenly remembered something. He switched on the comm. "Hey…Thor?"

There was a little static, but then, the Thunder God answered him. Tony wasted no time. "If SHIELD appears…if they're there…"

There was a long silence from the other side. Then: "I do take into consideration…that they have a possibility to hold him while we do not. But should they try…should they not treat him how they are supposed to…even at first sign, I will defend Loki."

 _In other words, if they touch one of the ridiculously long hairs on his power-crazy head, they'll get to feel that hammer_ , Tony drily thought, but didn't say it. He…couldn't exactly blame Thor.

The connection crackled and closed – maybe the electricity had overstrained the devices, but he was sure it had been manually switched off. Thor wanted to be alone and undisturbed with his brother. _And he might bash heads in to get it. Like he tried to smash in mine two years ago._

He didn't actually believe their resident god might try to kill soldiers if it helped him…but he sure as hell wouldn't say 'pretty please', either. Thor was a force to be reckoned with….and maybe, Fury had done so.

Tony sighed angrily and sped up. He had promised Thor he would let him go alone, but he had never said he wouldn't show up later….and showing up was exactly what he was planning to do, and be it just to help throwing off SHIELD…and wasn't that thought crazy? They had to defend the attacker against the defensive forces.

_Could this get any messier?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd cut; thank you, see you all at the after party!
> 
> I have a big anouncement to make here: This was the last piece I had written before publishing here, so (those who know me from other sites may know and already be damning me for this) it will, from now on, take a while to publish.  
> Just this past month, I was on a long hiatus (damned real life getting in the way) but I'm already easing my way back into the story.  
> Still, from now on, loger waiting hours. Sorry!
> 
> Again, I apologize for the lax description of places, by the way. I've never been to New York and Maps can only tell you so much. You just imagine Loki's hiding place and some place at the river are farther from the Tower than the others.
> 
> So, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter and all stay tuned!


	18. Face To Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it didn't take as long as I thought. Anyway, he warning remains: The breaks might be two weeks minimum. Sorry^^

Once, it had been a shopping center, spreading over two blocks. The walls had been painted in different colors and the floor had been lined with blue and grey carpets and linoleum colored like Oakwood. Once, at this time of the day, there would have been music, silently ringing from hidden sound systems; the songs specifically chosen for every shop, and each and every one of those would have crawled with people, moving and shopping and eating in the bright shine of long light bars.

Now, the entire ceiling and most of the walls were missing.

Solely those at the far right, a corner, half of the long and the complete short side were still standing to the height of two men; the rest was hip- to knee-high remains, edgy like mountain tops. The carpets and linoleum had mostly burned away to reveal the raw concrete underneath. Unmarred spots and occasionally protruding stones roughly marked the different rooms' layouts, but except for some dusted, splintered wooden planks and a broken sign (now reading Ice&Coff), they were empty. The escalators were intact, as was the elevator shaft, both leading to the lower level like gaping mouths.

On this makeshift platform, completely unaware of its former history, Loki waited.

It was a perfect day for a fight, he thought, taking a deep breath. A cloudy sky. Cold, but neither raining nor windy. His position allowed him a relatively good view on his surroundings (and the openness did, after those days in the narrow, damp and mildewed workplace, calm his nerves in a way it never had before, though he tried not think about that).

He merely wished the fight would finally start.

As so many times before today, Loki started to move, impatiently pacing back and forth. His steps – heavier, now that he had exchanged the foreign mortal-fabric for familiar leather and chainmail – were, apart from an occasional breeze, the only sound. Even the animals usually residing here had fled, maybe scared by his magic.

Once chosen, he had spent time on getting the fighting grounds right, to prepare the place in a way that would give him a certain advantage before he had set up distractions, startled the humans into running away (a small, fake army marching over the rubble; symbolizing the story's camp. It would hopefully be enough to get Thor's attention.) and took his position here.

Stopping, he threw his head back and searched the sky. There was nothing, no lightning, no streaks of color, no sign the Avengers had begun to fight, but the clouds had darkened in the distance…or was it his imagination?

_Maybe they have not yet heard of my illusions…and it might be that Thor is aiding the mortals first. Or maybe he did not understand what I was trying to show him Maybe I risked too much…maybe they are surrounding me now…but no._

No. He had known he would have to wait for Thor to understand the message he had tried to send trough the places and symbols he had targeted, but he thought he eventually would, and, most importantly, deep in his heart, he did not doubt that once he had, Thor would come alone. His…the man would not - _never_ \- miss the chance to meet him alone.

He would come alone, and he would tread into this trap.

… _maybe he cannot see my here…_

Shaking his head, Loki resumed his pacing and tried to quell his rising doubts. This was not the central point, nor was it the highest building, but he was the only black thing in a sea of grey – and the only thing radiating magic.

_Alone or not, Thor will sense me when he gets close. And he_ _**will** _ _be alone. I know him._ _**He will come alone** _ _. I simply have to wait. I knew I would have to wait a while before he would come here._

But still, he did not manage to get rid of the feeling of having forgotten something. Or more accurately: Of having forgotten to take something into consideration…having pushed something aside, ignored something, something important, something that might…

_...no._

Loki did not understand why he was this anxious. It was hardly the first time he walked into battle. It was the hundredth time he walked into a confrontation with Thor…the third time he walked into a fight for life and death with him. He was always a bit nervous before standing up to Thor – he was a temperate, ruthless opponent, strong in a way that almost defied description….

….but, in his own way, so was he. There was no reason to…

And then, he saw it. Darkness in the sky, clouds gathering tighter, and he knew, as certainly as he knew his own name, that I was no natural phenomenon.

Thor was on his way.

A flash of red in the distance, and he turned away, turning his back at the approaching color, taking time to check over his traps again - _just in case, I can never be certain that there will be no interfering or that I have forgotten something, or that….that…no, concentrate now_ – and put on the calmest face he could manage with his nerves fraying and battling with the wild, boiling lust for fight and blood.

The shadows reached him, and though he could not hear him, he could feel the distortions in the air, the trickle of electricity raising the hairs on his neck, and knew that Thor could not be far anymore. Within seconds, they would face each other once again, this time without anything separating them.

_Merely seconds, now…_

To his dismay, he felt self-consciousness rise, threatening to drown out his eagerness.

He had, before coming up here, controlled his appearance in one of the many mirrors in the ground level. He knew how he looked – not his best, but much better than when he had last seen himself in this dark glass pane – he knew his eyes had lost the look of confused, uncontrolled hysteria, that his smile no longer looked like a twitching grimace, that his hair was, even though he had had to resort to partially braid it, orderly once again.

But there was not only his outer looks that put him beyond Thor. There was also what hid beneath…

_Focus on your task_ , he snapped at himself before insecurity could take him over. It would not help him to succumb to his anger and hatred (and not jealousy, never something so low) now. Thor knew what he was. He had said so when they had met last year. He knew, but he refused to understand. Maybe seeing proof had finally set his mind right.

_If I want revenge on Asgard…if I want revenge on Odin…I have to get rid of him, now._

Loki took another deep breath. He did not turn around. Thor would not strike as long as his back was turned, not without giving warning. He deliberately straightened his shoulders and back, raised his head until he stood tall, the proud, confident stance of a prince – or a king.

Wind gushed past him. Heavy boots met the floor. Loki still did not turn, he merely looked over his shoulder, acknowledging the man standing behind him.

Thor stood completely still, he had not yet taken his fighting stance. Mjölnir was already in his hand, but not yet lifted, his arm hung loosely at his side. In difference to himself, he was wearing his full armor, chainmail glinted from under heavy vambraces, his cape flowed over his back, broadening his shoulders, flawlessly polished metal and golden mane were shining even in the diffused light. A light in the shadows that had crept over them. An exemplary Asgardian prince.

And a liar. He had played along, tried to make him believe the Chitauri were threatening Earth once again, tried to make him talk. Tried to _use_ him. Had possibly known what Odin and his cretins had done to him deep under the castle. Had known what would be shown to him in the Mindcage. Had always pushed him down, scorned him whenever possible and still dared to call him 'brother'.

Loki fully turned around, mirroring Thor's stance. Catching his gaze, he raised his chin and let a wild grin split his features as a greeting.

Now, he was the monster parents told their children about at night.

Soon, he would be the worst nightmare Asgardian royalty would ever know.

* * *

_If SHIELD appears…if they're there…_

It was difficult question…a question Thor had been asking himself from the second he had arrived at the huge fountain in the park and seen SHIELD's armed warriors swarming the place. It had been obvious to him that they had been in a battle with his brother…just as he had known that he would have to be there before them next time, before they could take Loki from the streets. That he might have to fight them…

…that he would do it, should it be necessary to keep their hands off his little brother.

Now that he had been forced to consider it, he thought that, maybe, he had even known earlier…when Fury had first turned to him and asked for something that would make Loki talk. And it was this memory that had made him answer his teammate – he had defended him and his brother against Fury, had helped him finding Loki and promised to protect him against pain without having any obligation to.

His answer had only gained him silence from the other man…though, maybe, it had been because he had switched the communication device off after he had answered. Thor was not certain if Stark had anticipated the thinly veiled threat he had just uttered or if he was shocked, and he did not give him the time to say anything.

Even though the humans had suffered, too, this was something between Loki and him.

Above him, the sky darkened and the winds strengthened, driving him forward into the destructed parts of the city. The closer he came, the stronger he could feel it: A presence of magic, curling through the stones below, only wisps, here, but enough to tell him that Loki had cast his magic here.

Thor paused, hovering for a moment.

A part of him did not wish to go farther. A part of him wanted to turn, to go and aid the rest of the Avengers, simply tell them Loki had not been there…but he also knew that he could not. Loki's anger, his desire for revenge would not disappear. His brother would try again and again, until he had what he wanted…or until…

Thor stopped the thought before it could form into something he did not wish to hear, focused and sped up again, rising higher for better sight…and saw it almost immediately.

SHIELD was nowhere in sight, and vanished from Thor's mind immediately. Instead, there was something else.

The men were clothed in something that roughly resembled the Asgardian guards garb, though the colors were duller and the design simpler. Steadily holding their swords and pikes, they marched over the rubble in perfect synchronization…just to vanish once they reached the outer fence the humans had put up to separate the streets from the spaces that needed to be rebuild and re-appear just out of the street's sight, flickering and becoming transparent sometimes. At the fence, the human workers stood, gesturing towards the squadron frozen in an endless loop, not daring to go closer. One of the machines was still working, its giant wheels turned uselessly, the shovel-head pressed against a boulder too big for it to shove away.

_He set up camp on a high place, surrounded by an open field,_ Thor thought, _and his army marched controls regularly. While they divided, he waited_. He was uncertain if this was his own thought or lines from the story his…their parents used to tell him. It did not matter. This proved that he had been right and he for a heartbeat, he wished he would not have been.

He really did not wish to fight his brother. He did not want to hurt or capture him. Not again.

Nevertheless, he went on, ignoring the calls and stares from the humans below. The illusions – not nearly as sophisticated as Loki's usual work, should the rest of them be done just as carelessly, he would have to hurry before the rest of the team decided that they were not worth the trouble – would not hurt them, and he had more important things on his mind.

Things like the figure he saw, deep under him, small, from up here, but still painfully, unmistakably familiar.

Loki was a spot of darkness before dull grey, standing at the edge of a broad plane that seemed to have been the first floor of a giant building. He stood with his back turned, head high as if he was staring into the distance, but Thor did not doubt Loki knew he was approaching.

Thor did not let himself hesitate any longer. He landed at some distance, well out of arm's reach, and lowered Mjölnir immediately. He did not want to look threatening…he still had a faint hope that he could, somehow, resolve this situation without having to fight his brother.

The only problem was that he did not know what to say. Loki was so…hurt, so angry, anything could be a provocation to him…and he was no good talker.

In front of him, Loki threw a glance over his shoulder. They looked at each other in silent anticipation and Thor felt desperate worry rise. Two years ago, he had not thought it possible that a simple conversation would invoke this in him and he almost wished he could return to his careless former self. This anxiety was almost impossible to bear.

They remained silent for a few heartbeats then Loki fully turned to face him, greeting him with a wild, wide grin.

"I have to admit, I am impressed. You did understand much faster than I had anticipated."

Thor swallowed and looked him over silently.

Loki looked much better now than last time he had seen him. Though he still was too thin and too pale, he seemed healthier. His eyes no longer looked sunken and had stopped to flicker restlessly, the wide grin still decorating his features was no longer completely uncontrolled and rabid.

Maybe, a part of it was also done by the clothing. He was not wearing his full armor – maybe it was under lockdown in Asgard, maybe he had not wanted to spend the energy to summon it – but was dressed in his sleeveless leather coat over a green tunic once more, and even though the coat that usually fit him perfectly was slightly too big and his hair was not yet gelled back, he looked so familiar it cut his heart. Like the brother he had lost to the Bifröst's whirl.

Thor only noticed he had been staring silently when Loki shifted his weight and cocked his head aside questioningly, thus tearing him out of his musings and back into reality – a reality where this man was his self-proclaimed enemy.

"Of course I did understand," he hastily said. "This one was one of your favorite stories. Do you remember how we…"

"Why is it," Loki cut him off, voice silkily soft and cuttingly cold, "that you always try to invoke sentimentality in me? I hold no fond memories anymore. When I look back, all I see is your shadow."

_Then why, why did you use this?_ Thor desperately thought, but he did not say it. Instead he said, "Nevertheless, I am glad you remember. And I am glad you seeked contact…that you want to speak to me instead of striking again."

" _Speak_ with you?" The sharp, mocking tone was another painful sting for Thor. "I do not want to speak, Thor, I do not want to drown in your deceitful sentimentality and newfound softness, I want what I always wanted."

"Loki, please," Thor said, hearing his desperation coloring his voice. "I did not come here to fight you."

"Well, that is a true shame," Loki said, mocking-thoughtful, a tone of voice Thor had heard a hundred times before. A flick of his hand, and a shining dagger appeared in Loki's slender fingers, nimbly held at an angle that showed off the sharp blade's shine and was efficiently battle-ready at the same time. "Because I very much wish to fight you."

This conversation was progressing into the wrong direction much faster than Thor had hoped and he started a last, desperate attempt to avert the impending fight.

"Loki, please. Just…" Here, he stopped again. He had been meaning to say 'stop this', but then, if the other distractions were like what he had used here, Loki had not yet done anything that required stopping. All he had done so far was to take his chance to run from captivity…and, now, trying to force him into a fight…and that, Thor could understand on a level.

"Just tell them, Loki," he finally broke out. "Put your weapon down now and come with me. Come with me, answer their questions and prove that…"

"Prove…what?" Loki undercut him flatly. "I think I proved my mindset more than enough." Lips twitching upward, he gestured at Thor's chest with the dagger's tip. "Or is this not enough to show you why I am still in this insignificant realm?"

"Prove that you are ready to help reverting the consequences of your doing here," Thor went on, not answering to his brother's open threat. He was doing his best to sound calm, but the pressure he was feeling sneaked into his voice anyway. "Tell them what you know about the Chitauri."

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes towards the sky, but Thor did not relent.

"You do not want them to cause so many innocent deaths, you did not even truly want it last time." He knew it was true – it had to be. Loki was beyond reason, but not a monster. "Help them to get rid of them this time before they can cause this much suffering again."

"Thor…please." Loki rose a hand, palm out, gesturing for Thor to stop talking, his entire posture conveyed exasperation. "Just stop this. I told you before, lying does not become you."

"Lying?" Thor frowned, staring at his brother, completely taken by surprise. He had feared Loki admitting he was working with the Chitauri once more. He had feared – more, as it was the more plausible course of events – a wild rant about their inferiority, about stolen rights, a bodily attack, he had expected anything…but not being accused of lying. "I do not understand…"

To his surprise, that anger that he knew sadly well overtook Loki's features, making his eyes gleam, twisting his grin into a horrible, bitter grimace. When he spoke, his voice carried the same bitterness, broken by sharp pants, as if the anger itself would exhaust him.

"You, you must think me a complete imbecile. Or do you hope Odin has mastered to destroy my mind completely? I walked those streets, Thor! I saw what was happening! How can you still believe…" He broke off with a shake of his head, panting, turned away as if wanting to pace again. His body shook, as if unable to contain his anger. Thor felt sickening worry choking him. Loki was…He had seen him losing control sometimes, but rarely for longer than one screamed sentence. This, this rabid, desperate rage, he had first seen two years ago and it seemed to get worse any time.

Loki had apparently noticed it, too. He visibly composed himself, forced his body and voice back to calmness and went on much quieter. "…that I would believe you?"

"Loki, I…" Thor shook his head, desperately trying to make sense of what he was saying. "I did not tell you any lies. I have never tried to deceive you, you know that!"

"You never _could_ ," Loki snapped. "And you should not try now."

"I am not trying to deceive you," Thor emphasized…and then, he did something he should not, even though a part of him was wishing he could. "If you mistrust the others…if you do not want to take the risk to be taken into captivity again, then tell me here and now."

"I know they are not here!" Loki was not yelling yet, but he was close. Thor could hear the biting anger (he tried not to think 'hatred') ) in his voice, but, for the first time in this conversation, the actual words seemed more important to him than the tone they were spoken in and they left him speechless.

For reasons he could not imagine, Loki had misunderstood completely…and he had no means to prove him different. Not without taking him to either SHIELD or Stark Tower – something he could not do as long as Loki did not believe he had a reason to come. The only thing he could rely on was trust…and Loki held no trust in him.

Still, he had to try.

"Loki, listen to me," he started, as urgently as he could manage, but something in his brother's face, something he could not describe, told him that he would not get through to him. "I have not lied to you. The danger they – we – are in is real. As is the importance of your information. Please, see reason, and come with me."

"I see reason," Loki told him coldly. He started moving, now, pacing back and forth, but now, he was slowly closing in on him, his stance showed readiness – he was prepared and about to strike. "I will no longer be fooled by your father and you. That is why I know…that there is only one way we can resolve this."

_I will be forced to fight_. Thor felt almost desperate, now. For once without arrogance, he knew he would win. Loki would not be able to defeat him, he had not been able to before and he certainly would not be able to in the condition he was in now.

"Brother, please. Tell me what they want, who leads them, and I will let you go."

He knew those words were a mistake even before they were fully spoken, but it was too late. Helplessly, Thor watched as blind rage overtook Loki's features. Sparks of magic flickered to life at his fingers, dancing along the dagger's blade. His muscles coiled, and no heartbeat later, Loki pounced.

Thor got Mjölnir up in time to block Loki's strike. His arm was forced backwards at the impact – Loki was stronger than he looked – but no more than an inch. His brother's face was twisted into a snarl, his eyes – the only thing they had in common, that made them look alike at least a bit – shone in a wild fire. There was a small moment in which he wanted to reach out, curl his hand around Loki's neck and continue to try…then he pushed back, shoving Loki back with full force, letting electricity flow freely and felt how magic rose everywhere around him – traps, hidden weapons, a shield, it did not matter, it all meant the same.

There would be no more talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To stay in tradition: a cliffhanger.
> 
> Ugh. So, there was a lot of talking in this, but I hope I managed to keep you interested a bit…as I said, I'm easing back in. And I find that Thor is a bit harder to write than Loki and Tony – he's arrogant, but humble; carless, but he cares…he kind of switched personalities when I tried and I had to do two takes to find a voice I kinda liked. Hope you did too ^^  
> 'Till next time! 
> 
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten


	19. A Thightening Noose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is official: My muse is dead….or at least, having a very proficient affair with somebody else. So I'm very sorry I took so incredibly long, but…well, I just couldn't type a single straight sentence. I still kinda can't, but I tried my best.  
> So here's the next installment. From the time tried to get something done, there's still some material, and I hope I can use that for my next chapter. Until then, I hope you can enjoy this part.
> 
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten

The video played for the third time this day, but he still didn't find anything new.

A small flicker was all there was, just a moment in which the form of two men shifted into something lanky, ugly and entirely foreign.

Any random passerby probably wouldn't have noticed anything, just seen two completely average men in a completely average neighborhood instead of a couple of alien in…well, in a neighborhood that wasn't _quite_ so average. At least not according to the information he had fed into the computer after the first attempted theft.

So, they had received the false information. That part of the plan had played out. Unfortunately, it had also given their only source of information a chance to flee.

Fury leaned back and steepled his fingers. His eye, fixed on the screen until now, unfocused a bit, then started to wander towards the door that had not opened today since he had slammed it shut behind him. He had ordered Coulson and Hill only to disturb him when somebody had news about either the Avengers, the Chitauri or Loki's location.

So far, there had been nothing.

He had expected nothing else, but he also started to be a bit worried– it had not taken them this long to find Loki last time, so either he had learned to steer clear of cameras, or he had already left the planet…maybe, to come back with a new army later. The Chitauri…well, they had managed to either come hidden or stay hidden for a year, so he didn't expect much there.

The Avengers were another matter entirely.

Despite what he had told the World Council, he had always known he would not be able to control them forever. Even his two agents and Captain Rogers, who were, by default, the most loyal ones, had always been prone to independent decisions and the rest of them... No, keeping them under his command like any other soldier had always been impossible. He just had not expected them to go completely rouge.

And it looked as if they were doing exactly that.

Fury had not believed Barton for one second when he had suddenly declared that there was a gap between the worlds that needed guarding. Well, he had believed there was a gap, but he was sure Loki would not come for it. He had watched Stark, Thor and two Quinjets (that they should not have access to, he would have to do something about that) circling over the city – it appeared as if they were looking for Loki, but he suspected that they also kept an eye on SHIELD.

He had tried to find out if Stark was trying to hack them again, but so far, he had not found anything. Still, he had instructed his people to stay attentive. It might still be that…

A knock woke him from his thoughts. Fury shut the screen down, but before he could call his visitor in, the door was opened and Coulson slinked in, precociously balancing an open laptop on one hand, using the other to push the door close behind him.

Fury half-rose from his chair and leaned forward in anticipation, flattening his palms on the tabletop.

"Sir, there is something you should see," Coulson rushed out, sounding out of breath. He had probably hurried the entire way here – and though his pierced lung had healed, his condition was still not as good as before. "We don't know for sure if it has anything to do with Loki, but it's certainly…strange."

Fury shoved his own computer aside and watched as Colson unlocked the file he wanted to show him…only to stare in disbelieve when four different windows opened. He wasn't entirely certain what he had been expecting, but it hadn't been civilian surveillance pictures – and it certainly hadn't been what they were showing.

"Things like that just…appeared, all over town. Nobody saw anything. Well, except for that." The last word was accompanied with a small gesture towards the pictures on the screen. It might have been funny in any other circumstance, but right now, it just riled him.

"What…" he started, but was cut off by the sound of Coulson's phone going off. He gestured for the man to take the call and turned his attention back to the screen.

"Sir?" Now Coulson sounded almost excited. "We have activity at Stark Tower. Five minutes ago, they all suddenly left, all rushing in different directions."

"Five minutes?" Fury looked up sharply, feeling sharp worry knifing through his stomach. "Why weren't we informed earlier?" Had Stark found a way of stopping them from watching the tower? He had already found a way to stop them from knowing what was happening inside, but if he had a possibility to make the team untraceable….

"Our team spent some time trying to get their attention, but nobody answered."

Fury nodded curtly and threw another glance at the screen, frowning.

This was…not enough bloodshed and far too much silliness to warrant the Avengers jumping into action like that.

Unless they knew something he didn't…and hadn't thought it necessary to inform him.

"Locate the Avenger's communicators," he ordered. "Put squads together and send them to their location. Tell them not to let them out of their sight and to report back immediately if they see just the smallest sign that Loki is involved. And keep me posted."

Coulson nodded, flicked his phone out again and rushed out. He knew Fury long enough to know he didn't have the patience for long clarifications. Fury watched him go, then he stood up and slowly wandered through his office, occasionally throwing a glance back to the laptop Coulson had forgotten.

The fleeting glances showed him people fleeing, some staring. They showed him a few cops trying to control the crowd and the - well, attackers probably wasn't the right word, but the only one he had - and, finally, one of them showed him Romanoff entering the scene.

Fury stared at the pixelated, black-and-white picture of the woman. It might be coincidence, maybe they were just checking the scenes on a whim – but Fury's instinct told him that wasn't the case. They had a lead on Loki, and they were no longer willing to work with him. Suggesting harder methods of interrogation had, apparently, rubbed the Avengers the wrong way. So severely that they were trying to capture their enemy without any involvement of SHIELD.

He could not let that happen…and if it did, he would have to convince them it was necessary -absolutely necessary – to find out everything Loki knew as fast as possible.

They didn't know what might be on the line.

* * *

_Clint will kill me. The rest of them won't be happy, Captain Serious will hold speeches, but Clint will definitely try to kill me._

He was not sure if he had said that aloud or if Jarvis simply decided to remind him of the undisclosed matter, but Jarvis chose that very second to involve himself further than supervising the armor's controls.

"Sir? Should I continue the averted call to the Avengers now?"

"No," Tony said after a short pause. "Don't worry about that."

He didn't stop worrying, though. Letting Thor go still seemed like a big mistake; and not calling the team like an even bigger one. It probably was. But he could not help it: He did understand, in a way. He had not wanted help from the military either when he had been…cleaning up the Ten Ring's mess.

There was no infliction in Jarvis' tone, but Tony swore he could hear exasperation and something that he, for the lack of a better word, dubbed 'smart-assery'.

"Sir, after you spent the last days looking for your enemy's exact location, now…"

"Don't. Worry." Tony undercut his AI, steering towards the blinking spot on the map. "There's probably trouble where we're going, too. In fact, it's most probable. So do me a favor and do a sweep search…tell me if you see anything unusual in the area." He thought for a second, then added, "And take a look at SHIELD's communication and movement, I want to know what they're doing."

"Very well, Sir."

Jarvis fell silent and set to work and Tony sank into his own thoughts once more…

…and then, he slammed to a halt, all worries suddenly forgotten when something fat and inelegant bumbled past him.

It was a…well, Tony was no expert, but if asked, he would say it was a fly. It had bulging eyes, it had a thick, segmented, hairy body with six crocked legs, attached to it, it had a set of wings that beat so fast they were a blur. In short: it looked exactly like you usual housefly.

Then again, it was the size of a smart. The hum its wings caused even sounded like an idling engine.

Tony stared at it disbelievingly until it had gone past, zigzagging aimlessly, before looking around, taking in the scenery.

At some point in the past hours, either the stream going by the name of Hudson River had decided to suddenly evaporate something highly hallucinogenic, or Loki had seen one too many cheap horror movie.

The air was filled with the deep humming noise of the inflated insects, bumbling this way and that like strange-shaped balloons, some small enough to almost fit on his palm, others…well, bigger. Much bigger. A frog – or toad, Tony didn't know the difference – the size of a Great Dane sat hunched in the shadow of a marquise, expectantly watching the flies. And the water…

…the water seemed to have come alive, a sloppy, greenish-brown substance that looked firm enough to walk on. Occasionally, something, maybe a part of the substance, maybe the part of something else hidden underneath, arched up and collapsed back down with an ugly, squirting sound.

Hovering high above, Tony sincerely wished he would have gone with Thor. Or, at least, that he would wake up in a minute. This was just…too stupid.

He had expected more flashy special effects and mass destruction.

"The agents watching the tower have just reported your departure, Sir," Jarvis voice cut through his surprise. "Apparently, units are being readied for departure."

 _Almost six minutes_ , Tony thought. _Either they didn't want to know we're not talking to them or they're a but duller than I gave them credit for….or…_

"Jarvis, did somebody from the team answer their hails?"

There was a moment of silence while Jarvis searched through al frequencies. "There were no communications registered."

Tony sighed – why had he even doubted? – and then a yell drew his attention away from the short moment of relief and back to the boats. There was a water taxi nearby, right in the swampy spot. People stood on deck, waving and calling for him while the green mess slowly crept up the walls.

While he was still looking, the crowd suddenly started screeching in tones high enough to splinter glass. The stuff had reached up once more, and this time, it had reached for the people. Some managed to get away, but one man was not so lucky: The thing grabbed him and started to wave him around, as if uncertain what to do with him.

Cursing, Tony shot forward and fired.

The first blast tore a hole into the thing, the second tore it fully, but not before Tony saw what it was: algae, meshed and knotted together until they were almost solid. _He almost literally made the river come alive._

It didn't make much sense…

He caught the falling guy almost absent-minded and almost literally dropped him a few feet from the water, trying to keep an eye on the water. It had not tried to kill or eat or drown the man…

…and then, he understood.

It didn't need to be kill. It didn't need to be mass-destructive. It simply held some civilians captive on a river and proposed just enough of a threat that he would be forced to retrieve them…and with those insects in the air and snatching tentacles, helicopters could hardly get close enough.

"This is so stupid it's actually smart," Tony muttered as he rose, trying to keep an eye on every potential danger at once, and set to work.

"Sir?" He had just dropped off the third load of shaken passengers (who would probably never go near the river again) when Jarvis piped up again. "Several units of SHIELD agents are nearing."

"Just what we need. What's with the rest?"

"There are SHIELD agents nearing every member of the Avengers."

Tony nodded, knowing Jarvis wouldn't need a verbal answer. He couldn't have given one anyway, considering he was carrying three civilians at the time, two of them looking like they were in shock, one, the youngest, bouncing excitedly.

He had no doubt that Fury was already aware they were no longer ready to work with him, not as long as he behaved like some…some militia, ready to use all means just because he could. So he sent his babysitters, people who were supposed to follow them and keep an eye on them, probably to find out if they knew anything…and follow them to take over as soon as they did.

_Well, if he thinks he can control the Avengers with a couple of wannabe heroes in black suits, he'll be in for a surprise._

"How'd they find us?"

Jarvis hesitated, probably searching trough all parts of the conversations he had tracked, listened to and saved. "They have located the Avenger's communicators, Sir."

Tony cursed silently, but viciously. If they tracked the frequency of the ComLink, they had probably found out Thor had destroyed or at least switched off his, what certainly would look suspicious. And his lightning was sure useful and impressive, but also very, very visible.

It was only a matter of time until they found him…and Loki. And then, things _would_ get ugly.

Tony hesitated only for a heartbeat.

"What about Natasha, is she still alone?"

He had to warn the team; had to gather them before things could get out of control. But for that, he'd have to tell them what he knew, what Thor had told him, and what was about to happen. He had a feeling Natasha would be the one to be the most pragmatic about it.

"A unit seems to have reached Miss Romanoff. They are talking about conferring with her."

"Call her up."

* * *

 

Thor was not behaving the way he had expected.

He had never thought it possible that he could be such a proficient liar, but it seemed he had learned a lot during the two years they had not seen each other; apart from the few minutes they had spent facing each other down, back when he still had had the Tesseract and the confidence that he would have an army backing him up soon.

Quite a useless army, he had found out. Fearless, yes, but mindless. Even the youngest soldier in Asgard's army (most of them, at least) possessed more common sense. Another thing that made this story unbelievable.

And still, even when he told him he had seen through it, he persisted on maintaining this façade. Stalling techniques were something else Thor had shown never before.

Loki had not expected he would be trying to delay a fight until the rest of his mortal team arrived. Maybe it should have given him a feeling of honor – Thor was not taking risks with him anymore – but on the whole, it simply irked him.

He wanted this fight to begin. He did not want to talk about the past, or about the Chitauri. He did not wish to think about him. All he wanted was to give this… _feeling_ boiling deep inside him an outlet. Vent all the anger he was not certain where…or even at whom…it was directed. All he wanted was…

"I have not lied to you," Thor claimed again, his face open and soft and desperate in a way Loki had not seen often. It looked as if he was still hanging to sentiment…but his actions, his continued lies…Loki could not be certain anymore.

"The danger they – we – are in is real. As is the importance of your information. Please, see reason, and come with me." And he kept trying. Kept trying to…to what? Trick him? Bring him back? Put him back into a cell in endless twilight? Make him his dutiful shadow once more?

…all he wanted was the wild, instinctive heat of battle.

"I see reason," Loki answered. It was time to stop this banter, to make clear once and for all that he now could stand on his own. He started moving, pacing, slowly closing in on Thor, trying to let his body communicate what his words had so far failed to.

Physicality was the language a true warrior of Asgard spoke best, after all.

"I will no longer be fooled by your father and you. That is why I know…that there is only one way we can resolve this."

Thor didn't respond the way he had hoped. He did let his gaze follow him closely, ready to defend should he strike, but he did not take a battle stance, not even tensed. Instead, he spoke again.

"Brother, please. Tell me what they want, who leads them, and I will let you go."

_Let me go?_

It took Loki a moment to process those words, longer than ever before, because those words, _those words_ …

It was a form, a level of arrogance that he had not thought Thor capable of. He had always known this man to be haughty, but this, offering him flight over a fight…it was an proposal he had scarcely witnessed , and then only to the weakest of opponents, to civilians, elders and children who picked up weapons against trained foes they could not triumph over even with the help of the Norns on their side.

It was an insult beyond every word and deed ever directed against him; and it cut through all of his defenses and reduced him to two unbalanced thoughts.

One came with insecurity and burning shame, and it was: _Is that how he perceives me?_ _As so weak he feels obliged to show mercy?_

The second one – _how dare he say that to me, after everything that happened_ – brought pure rage, and it was stronger.

Loki was moving before he could fully comprehend what he was doing. He only became aware he had pounced when his dagger's blade forcefully connected with Mjölnir. He could feel he was gaining an inch on Thor, brought his second hand up to bring a second blade into play…

….and then, Thor shoved back.

Loki knew of Thor's true strength, and he jumped before he could lose his footing, even though he did slide a bit before he regained balance. When he looked up again just a heartbeat later, Thor had finally given up his new, diplomatic approach – now, his stance was wide, hammer raised, wind came up (light, but Loki knew better, knew the storm it could become) to billow his cape and then get caught in Loki's hair. He was ready to throw himself forward again…but then, he felt the tingle of electricity and stopped himself.

If Thor would awaken his strongest power so soon in this confrontation, then so would he.

Shifting his focus from the dagger in his hand, Loki took a deep breath and held it for a moment. When he released it, he also released his magic, let it flow freely from his body and into several of the weapons hidden in cracks along the floor and even some in the wall; not all of them, just enough to hopefully give Thor trouble repelling them all.

There was another, tense moment of silence, then illusions of himself flared up and the daggers flew.

Loki had planned on advancing the moment one of them struck, but either Thor had been foreseeing a trap, or his reflexes had become better(…or Loki himself had become slower…but no, he could not dare think that, not now). Out of the nine blades – some of them from his arsenal, less of them pieces he had come upon in the city – only four made it past the bright flashes of lightning that enveloped Thor like a shield. The illusions all dissipated, though.

 _At least, I have managed to avert being struck by this_ , Loki absently thought in the second it took for the daggers to hit the ground, but he knew this success to be fleeting at best.

Three blades were no more successful. One missed the God of Thunder entirely, only brushing the cape. One, he deflected with Mjölnir, throwing it of course, though it did remain unspoiled. The third one, Thor somehow managed the catch, with his weaker left, no less…

_He has gotten more nimble…maybe I am out of practice, I have not used magic against a foe this formidable since I escaped my confining…but no, I knew Thor would be too strong to be beaten like this._

…and the last one, finally, found its intended target. It scraped along the vambrace when it passed Thor's half-risen arm, moving slightly upwards until it met Thor's throat.

All it did was to leave a small scratch slightly above the juncture of shoulder and neck, but that was enough. In the split second Thor was distracted, Loki moved.

It had taken no longer than two seconds between the daggers rising and one of them leaving a cut on Thor's neck, and it took Loki half the time to cross the distance between him and the man he had thought to be his brother for most of his life.

He brought the dagger down diagonally, planning to drive it between Thor's ribs. Not a deadly wound, but a painful one, a wound that would slow him down, but something happened that he had not been expecting: Instead of trying to block him, Thor dropped the dagger and seized his wrist.

The pressure around his arm was unrelenting, and Loki fully expected to be thrown aside - _and how fitting that would be_ \- but instead, Thor caught his gaze (and his eyes still were soft and sorrowful, and not filled with the anger and bloodlust that Loki wanted) and held it.

"Loki, please, listen to me," he started again, but he would not listen to this any longer. Hissing, he spun the dagger around in his captured hand, until the blade threatened to cut through the cords in Thor's wirst.

Instead of releasing him to safe his hand from being immobilized, Thor twisted the arm he was holding, until Loki had no chance but to open his hand and drop his weapon, but Thor did not stop there, bending Loki's arm until he was forced to….to _go to his knees_.

No. He would not allow that.

Without thinking, Loki conjured a dagger to his free hand and buried it into Thor's forearm, just above the vambrace. The chainmail kept it from entering too deep, but the damage was done, and the grip around his arm loosened.

Grinning wildly in triumph – a small one, but then, not many a foe had ever managed to make Thor Odinson bleed – Loki aimed for his throat next... and then, Thor countered.

The hammer struck against the blade, and Loki could feel the impact re-vibrating through muscle and bone, all the way to his shoulders. His hand was thrown aside with enough force to almost take his body along, but he managed to spin clear, trying to use it to gain additional strength when he struck back.

Unfortunately, it did not help. Thor blocked him effortlessly, and when their weapons connected, Thor suddenly _shoved,_ putting his entire weight and strength into the motion. Loki stumbled, his legs almost gave out when his opponent's – considerable, compared to his own – weight suddenly rested mostly on him. He ducked away, but before he could recover, Thor hit back.

This time, when he blocked, he could feel his bones crunch together at the joints, then his elbows gave in, as did his knees. He fell, his right outstretched to keep himself from just being thrown onto his side from the force of the blow, incapable of keeping his balance. He had forgotten how strong Thor truly was.

He had been trying to repress all the small thoughts, all those tiny shards of doubts; had been trying to remain self-assured and certain of his victory.

Now, for the first time, Loki fully realized that he might have made a horrible mistake.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, three cliffhangers in a single chapter….the only thing I do get done are unfinished endings, how about that?
> 
> Sorry to keep you all waiting for the outcome of the fight, but I needed this chapter to set up SHIELD, too, because I can assure you, despite the Avenger's vow to keep away from them for now, this is not the last we've seen from them. And I wanted to have a little look into Loki's mindset during the conversation as well,..okay, maybe I just like writing him. More Plot next time, I promise. Or, at least, more drama.  
> Until then: Fare well! I hope you enjoyed and 'till next time!
> 
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten


	20. Set Up And Break Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers, welcome to chapter twenty!  
> As this is the second round number, it's probably only fitting that it is now also the longest chapter (almost 6.000 words – yikes, I really got carried away).  
> Anyway, I wish you fun with this!

_Call her up._

"Very well, Sir." Jarvis fell silent – he had to execute several programs preventing anybody from tracing, recording or listening in on their call, so it would take a moment to connect them; but Tony wanted to make absolutely sure. "Switch of the mics, too. That's not for civilian ears."

Jarvis didn't respond, but a light on the outer rim of his visor darkened; telling him that the microphones broadcasting his voice to the world were off. Now, people could only hear him when their ears were sharp enough to pick up his voice from behind his very stable, very thick armor.

Still, when Natasha answered, he kept his voice down, hoping it would prompt her to do the same.

His worries had been unnecessary, of course: When Natasha answered, she spoke low, and – though Tony, of course, couldn't see it – held one hand curved against her face, hiding her mouth and muffling the sound against the agents still near enough to hear her.

"You got problems, Stark?"

"No, actually I've got something to tell you…though I'm not sure how to phrase this…"

"SHIELD's here," she cut him off. "They've followed us, maybe they're listening in."

"They can't listen in," Tony gave back matter-of-factly, and that seemed to be enough, as there was nothing but expectant silence from the other side of the line. "Right, first, are you fighting something…you know, mass-destructive?"

There was a shot scoff, maybe something like a laugh. "No, not really. It's…" Somebody else (Tony, for example) might have said 'Promise you won't laugh', but Natasha only made a small pause she used to look over her shoulder, confirming that what she'd been seeing was still there. "Mannequins. From boutiques, sport's shops. You know, plastic, no faces. They spread a lot of confusion, haven't actually attacked anybody, though."

Tony chuckled. _Tentacle plants and moving puppets?_ Either, Loki had studied the horror genre or too much or too little. "Well, still better than what I'm seeing."

"Why, is it deadly?"

That, he had to think over for a moment. If somebody was dragged underwater…but then, there hadn't been any attacks so far. "I don't think so, " he finally decided. "More of an annoyance, actually."

He had just dumped off the people he was holding when the sound of several engines heading towards him caught his attention. He almost expected it to be the flies, but when he looked up, he saw a row of cars instead that came down the street, as fast as they dared to.

"Talking about annoyances," Tony muttered, watching the cars stopping in a loose half-circle, each of them spilling men and some women in uniform – what reminded him of clowns tumbling from a Volkswagen…and as if to complete the picture, a few in the front immediately started to gesticulate, waving their arms above their heads, trying to get Tony's attention.

Tony ignored them.

"So, listen, do you think you can ditch them and not have them tailing you if it gets necessary?"

Natasha made a small huffing sound. "Yes." That sounded very convinced – not that Tony would have doubted it. There was a reason why the Black Widow was as famous as she was feared. "Why should I leave?"

Tony hesitated, trying to think of a good way to phrase this…but then, he had always given his best speeches when improvising. Before he could overthink what he was about to say, he simply started and summarized what had happened since the team had split up, starting with him realizing Thor had behaved strangely at the Tower (he couldn't see it, but between taking experimental shots at a white mannequin almost playfully chasing a terrified officer around, Natasha smiled thinly at that) and ended with him arriving at the river.

When he had finished, there was only silence. He was getting nervous when Natasha finally spoke. "All right. And why are you telling me now?"

"Because I think Thor can win, but even if we decide to let them settle it, SHIELD won't stay out of the fight." He thought about it, and decided to be honest. "And because I hoped you would think about it before you'd curse me to hell."

"Well, you might be right there," Natasha deadpanned. "We still should tell the others before we have to intervene."

Tony sighed - he had been fearing that – but at least, she seemed to agree with him. It was a start. Now, all he had to do was to convince the others that Thor and Loki should fight on their own as long as there was no need for them to intervene. _Well, I've done harder things. I think_.

"Jarvis, I'll need a conference call."

There was a small moment of silence in which Tony had just enough time to wonder if he was doing the right thing and when his life had become such a mess, then the smug-indifferent tones of the AI cut through his thoughts. "Connection established, Sir."

"Hey, I need you to listen to me for a moment," he started. "Preferably without SHIELD listening in, if all of you have the time?"

There was a mostly non-verbal answer from the Hulk – not that he had been expecting much more; with all the control Bruce had, the tiny earpieces still were somewhat… difficult for to operate with the Hulk's fingers – but Clint and Rogers both agreed.

"So none of you is facing anything…deadly?"

Clint made a scoffing, frustrated sound, not quite a laugh. "I'd say I'm facing something ridiculous."

"That fits what Thor said." Tony took a deep breath. That would not be easy. "He thinks that Loki set this all up to distract us."

"Distract us?" Rogers voice came through the speakers, sounding honestly surprised. "Distract us from what?"

Tony hesitated for a long moment.

Thor's warnings about how violent Loki could get if he was cornered were still clear in his mind, as was the honest, pleading desperation he had tried to conceal when he had asked Tony to let him fight alone. He also was a bit nervous about their reactions (and that was new; he usually had no trouble speaking his mind or admitting he'd lied; and it was a bit…worrisome how deep he already had sunken into this team-playing-stuff…).

But, on the other hand, hid didn't want Loki escaping and SHIELD was probably ready to head towards the fighting ground, and then, Thor could use some help.

"From the fight between him and Thor," he said. "Thor said all of this, the layout of the attack points, meant something to him, some sort of…story or legend. Loki sent him a sign to get him alone."

There was a long moment of silence. Then, everybody started talking simultaneously, and none of them sounded understanding or happy. Tony already readied himself to several lengthy, angry lectures; but fortunately Natasha did what he had hoped: She kept a cool head and reacted professionally (and, for Tony's ears, she sounded a little like a harried babysitter, exasperated by the kid's antics, though he would never tell her that).

"Guys, would you listen for a moment?" She waited for silence (wish she got quite fast, Tony realized, much faster than he had ever accomplished with them - wasn't that a bit unfair?), before ploughing on. "He took a chance. He let Thor give Loki what he wants, so he wouldn't bolt again." No complaints or contradictions so far - Tony decided to see that as a good sign. "But now, things have changed. Stark found out that SHIELD followed us by locating our communicators."

"And?" Steve asked expectantly.

"And Thor has either destroyed or switched off his," Tony took over. Even while he was talking, Tony descended again, but this time, instead of picking up people, he closed his hands around the anchor – _I should have thought about that sooner_ \- and pulled, trying to drag the entire boat to the shore. "That'll let them suspect he has something to hide," he went on "and even though they can't find him, they're both not exactly inconspicuous. It's only a matter of time before they see him. They might escalate the situation."

"Escalate?" Clint asked, in a tone that was meant to convey 'What's there to escalate?', but it was not convincing, just a try to get rid of the idea that me might have to – passively, but still – help the very man who had kept his mind hostage against his (probably former) employers. They all knew that Thor would no longer accept SHIELD attacking Loki.

"Do you think Thor would hurt SHIELD's people if they showed up?" Rogers asked. Tony hesitated to answer, focused on not swaying the boat too much instead, but Natasha was not having those troubles.

"Yes. He knows they'll use harder measures of interrogation on Loki, and he will kill them before allowing that."

"But luckily for them," Tony said hastily, "we agreed that we would not let that happen either, so nobody has to get hurt. They'll hardly argue if we stand against them as a team. We _do_ still agree we'll help Thor against them, right?"

There was a "yes" from three people only. "Clint?"

"Fuck you, Stark." Tony could hear him taking a deep breath. He knew this was even more difficult for him than for the rest of them. Tony himself had moments in which he thought he had to be crazy for considering this…but this was not about protecting the guy who leveled a few blocks. This was about supporting a friend – and about keeping some morale. About not becoming what he hated.

"Fuck this. I'm in. If it gets necessary…"

And then, as if on cue, lightning flashes lit up the skyline, just for a short moment, but it was very obvious and more than enough to show everybody Thor's position.

"Cursing silently – of course, the one guy who had to hide his fight had to have one of the most visible powers of the entire team - Tony looked down and saw the agents mostly turned away from the river now, some of them fumbling out cellphones or running towards the cars.

"Good we all agree, then. Jarvis, block their communication for a few minutes! And switch the mics back on." He went into a fast descent, thinking even faster. "You'll have to find an excuse to leave – and fast."

He came to a sharp halt in front of the agents, hovering there. To his dismay, not all of them stopped immediately, but, judging from the whispered conversation and curses, their messages didn't get through. Apparently, Jarvis had worked fast enough.

"In case you don't want to stand here uselessly: I think some of those toads escaped your watchful eyes." The agents exchanged uncomfortable looks. "It would help if you found them and drove them back here."

Some of them scuttled at that, none of them waiting for their superiors to confirm the order. Officially, all was well between them, then.

"The rest of you should get something to build ramps and get those people to safety. Machetes and Flamethrowers should help to keep that stuff in check, if you have any." He waited until several men had nodded. "Good. In that case, you can handle this on your own from now on."

Before one of them could speak, even before he could take off, he saw them: Five Quinjets, all rushing into the direction the lightning had been; all of them not with the 'A' he had marked his with, but with SHIELD's stylized eagle on their wings and sides.

Apparently, they _really_ had to hurry now.

* * *

 

_He had been trying to repress all the small thoughts, all those tiny shards of doubts; had been trying to remain self-assured and certain of his victory._

_Now, for the first time, Loki fully realized that he might have made a horrible mistake._

Together with that knowledge (another failure) came a sting of panic, the memory of being on the floor with all of them pointing their weapons at him, being pinned down by Mjölnir on his chest, and a second knowledge: He did not want to be captured like that. He would lie here when they came.

Before he could hit the floor, Loki shifted his weight and used the force of the shove to get away. It was much less elegant a move than usual, but at least, he remained standing.

Thor had not followed him, so Loki had a moment to think. If he teleported now – Thor would never be able to find him again, not if he did not want him to; and that was what he should do. He had no chance. He had never won against Thor even when well-rested and perfectly fit, he had no chance…

_No. Stop. You do have a chance. You cannot run away now._

Maybe this was simply pride speaking, but in a way, that was all he had. He could not run and hide. Thor would not have to 'let him go'. He would fight. And, if he did it right, he would even win. All he needed…

All he needed was a weapon with more abilities, something like Gungnir or Thanos' staff. Unfortunately, he had had no possibility to collect a spear, even though he knew now where cast-outs and runaways could buy medicine or weapons if they needed them…

…but then, he could create them with his own body.

He was about to raise his free hand when the gravity of what he was about to do – revealing what he was, actually using it against Thor instead of resorting to his Asgardian means - struck him.

Thor would be disgusted with him once he saw him use this strange power he had been born with. He had to be. Loki knew Thor hated those beasts, too.

_And what does it matter?_

What did it matter, indeed. It had been his plan to get Thor to hate him as much as he hated him, to get him to fight, to make it real and without any barricades of sentiment holding them back. So what did it matter what Thor thought about him anymore? He had always been thinking of himself as the superior, and now he knew what blood flowed through Loki's veins. Showing him….

…showing him seemed almost impossible. Knowing something and seeing it with one's own eyes were two entirely different things, Loki knew. And to let him see….

_This imbecile's opinion matters not_ , Loki reminded himself. _**He**_ _will not matter much longer. Let them see what this monster can do._

He would show them brute strength failing in the face of a monster's hate.

Loki raised both arms to chest-height and held his hands out, loosely curled as if he was holding something invisible…and then, ice began to form, starting at his palms and reaching into both directions, creating something resembling a spear, thinner and lighter than the Scepter had been, though one end did spread into a blade he deemed more practical. He did send an illusion out almost at the same time, giving the frozen weapon the appearance of an ironwood staff cased in golden metal…but still, swallowing the shame he felt about using this power, he kept the golden shine always a bit behind the ice.

And Thor had seen it, too. Loki could see he desperately tried not to let his gaze openly follow the transparent-becoming-blue color of the ice he had seen used to create weapons only once before; but his eyes were glued to it until it was completely veiled. Only then he managed to rise his gaze to Loki's face instead, his expression…

_What does he see now?_

…unreadable to him, and there suddenly was a wave of disgusted panic, threatening to drown Loki's resolve.

During the time he had spent locked away somewhere in Asgard's cellars, he had not had a mirror (neither had he thought about controlling his own reflection in ice, and the thought did not come to him now, either). He had focused on keeping the discoloration of his hands at bay…but he had never seen his own face. He did not know if there were any changes.

Was it showing there? Were his eyes truly turning this bright, expressionless red?

"Loki," Thor said, softly, and suddenly Loki could no longer determine whether it was just shock or if he truly wanted to say something; the only thing he knew was that he did not want to hear it.

Before Thor could do or say anything more, he threw himself at the man he used to call his brother with all force he still could muster. He raised it to strike at Thor's head, the staff's end always held diagonally in front of his chest to protect his ribs from the hammer.

Thor's fighting style was easy to predict. He knew that he would only have problems if he decided to use lightning.

Snarling unconsciously, Loki brought the staff's sharp tip down just in time with Thor bringing Mjölnir up. For a moment, the adoptive brothers stared at each other -then Loki jumped back and brought the staff into movement again, counting on Thor trying to use his hammer to break his stronger arm, moving his own away from his own body, leaving it prone…

…and then he saw stars as Thor's fist connected with the side of his jaw.

Loki toppled backwards. Instinctively, his hands clenched tighter around his weapon, but it meant that he could not catch himself when he hit the floor hard enough to hear his shoulder crunch under the force when he used the drive to roll and get back up to his feet, ready for the next blow….

….just to see that Thor was no longer looking at him. He had half turned, looking at something in the sky. Surprise kept Loki on the floor for a moment, and then, instead of striking – there had to be something - he to let his gaze follow Thor's…and what he saw send his mind reeling.

The flying vehicles were quite silent compared to the rest of the human's machines, but he still should have heard them coming, especially as he had no doubt that they were part of the humans' defensive forces…and probably looking for him.

The first jet slowly circled around the platform, closely followed by the rest of them all somehow managing to keep the snouts pointed on them. Loki tensed, trying to watch all of them at once – the weapons spouting from their bellies fired hard enough to be painful, and if they were loaded with the same material those needles were, he had no chance on surviving.

_Is that what Thor was waiting for? Not his team, but a force able to kill me, though so slow to arrive I easily can escape?_

On second thought, they had arrived and he had not teleported away yet. Maybe, Thor had guessed he would not…

…but no. A glance over to the Thunder God proved Loki that he had not been waiting for them, had maybe not even expected them to arrive. Thor stood still at the same spot, still staring at the vehicle that had led the approach, but now, his muscles were tense, Mjölnir half-risen and sparking with power, his face contorted into a snarl. Loki had seen him like this many, many times, and against his will, he felt a familiar thrill in his veins, a familiar grin pulling at his lips.

"This is not your fight," Thor snapped as soon as they were steady, not quite yelling yet. "Stay out of this!"

"Stand aside," a voice ordered, loud and metallic. Thor's response was non-verbal: Though the air around them remained the same, the Quinjets were pushed away a considerable way. He would not have them interfering.

And, for the first time in a long time, Loki agreed with him. This was their fight.

The other daggers and the stones filled with energy reserves had been meant for use against Thor, but when he activated them now, he directed them outwards. They soared up obediently, forming a circle around them. Energy flowed between them, forming a shield strong enough to keep them out, but he was aware it was a temporary solution at best.

Now, he was only using energy stored outside of his body, but soon, he would have to use his own power…but he need not have worried. Thor rose Mjölnir, and send out a flash that jumped between the daggers and against the jets, had them tumbling, each dropping a few inches.

Unfortunately, the warning had not been enough, though. The weapons moved slightly, targeting Loki – and, by default, Thor – apparently uncaring if they hit both of them. Loki ducked and aimed with the spear, ready to destroy the huge guns…but before any of them could move, they suddenly drifted away, moving backwards.

What both of them did not know was that the pilots were suddenly hearing AC/DC blasting from their speakers, accompanied by Tony Stark's voice telling them that they had to take a time out and would be released as soon as the fight was over. Thor did think he saw the red-and-gold flash of his friend's armor, but he did not say anything.

Loki did not see Stark. He watched them retreat, and he was not certain what to think of it. Had they been ordered away? Were the pilots afraid? Or, maybe, did they think Thor could handle it alone?

He probably could…but he must not think that.

"I am surprised at you," he said as soon as he was certain that the retreat was indeed not a trick. "You show so much possessiveness over this battle, yet you refuse to fight."

"I don't want them involved." Thor's voice still had a certain growl to it, but it was fading with every word. "They would…" He broke off and shook his head. "Loki, please. You have to listen to me. They are here because they want to know. I have not been lying to you. Please, let us stop this."

Loki shook his head, straightened his back and got back into position. "I never thought I would see the day when you would get tired of fighting," he marveled, as aggressively mocking as he could when this strange-familiar feeling of agreement, facing somebody down together, was still tingling in the back of his mind. He squished it as good as he could. This incident was over now.

"I never wanted to fight you. I did when I had to, but I never…"

"Then maybe," Loki interrupted him, allowing a wide grin to spread, "I will have to give you reason. Though I have to admit, I am surprised. Have I not shown you what I am capable of doing? Was it not enough to show you what I will do?"

While speaking, Loki sauntered closer once again, slowly, doing his best not to show where and when he would strike. It was surprisingly difficult, speaking the right words while keeping his body under control. More difficult than he remembered. His head was already pounding. But he had to get Thor to abandon his paradisiac, naïve view of the world, abandon control to the heat of battle.

So far, Loki had not understood why Thor would continue to lie to him, try to lure him back into captivity. Now, he did (or, at least, he thought so): His first assessment had been right. Thor was still convinced that everything could be forgotten. He was still convinced that he could have his shadow back instead of opening his eyes to see reality…and maybe, give his human allies the Chitauri as a weapon in the process.

He would destroy that hope. Once and for all. It would never be like that again.

"If this" – he waved the concealed ice weapon for emphasis, ignoring the little sting – "was not enough, maybe I have to remind you of my plans. First, I will gut you. Then your team. Then, I'll go to Asgard, and I will it burn, along with everybody residing there. You know I will do it! You know everything and everybody you have ever talked to here is going to suffer and die, so why will you not _fight_?"

The last words were accompanied with a two-handed strike, the sharp blade aiming for the unprotected point where Thor's neck became his shoulder, right were the still bleeding cut sat. Green sparks of magic flickered down from his hands to the metallic tip, throwing ragged shadows over both their faces. This blow was brutal and it would have been lethal even for somebody like Thor, but by holding the staff so far outside, Loki left his side completely open once again.

And this time, Thor reacted.

Even though not wielded with full capacity, Mjölnir shattered three of Loki's ribs at the impact. The force was enough to send him flying and this time, Loki did not manage to keep a hold on the staff. All his muscles went limp and he did not recover fast enough to roll this time. All air was pressed from his lungs when he hit the concrete un-cushioned, his broken ribs sent blinding waves of pain through his whole body.

His world hidden behind a grey veil, Loki lay there, staring at the sky with unseeing eyes, waiting until he stopped feeling dizzy and sick with pain. A part of him expected Thor's form to appear above him, to put him into chains again…or to finally end all this. There was fear and anger at that thought…but also a certain peace.

And again, nothing happened.

After what felt like minutes – just about fifteen seconds had passed, but Loki was in no state to count time anymore – he slowly sat up, trying to keep as much pressure from his damaged ribs as possible…and then, he froze in shock.

Thor still stood at the same spot. He made no move of ending this fight in any way; he just stood there like a cat waiting if the mouse would move again; he was not even out of breath.

Panting and coughing, Loki reached for the staff and used it as a cane to get back on his feet. Nobody tried to stop him from retrieving his weapon and nobody stopped him from standing up and repositioning himself. He could not believe it.

"Loitering in Midgard has not done you good, Thor." No matter how hard he tried, he didn't manage to shout, his ribcage seemed to tight, uncomfortably pressing and stinging against his lungs, stopping him from taking deep breaths. "You have lost your touch!"

"Would you rather I had smashed a hole through your chest?"

Thor did not yell either, he sounded perfectly calm, just loud enough for Loki to catch it, but the undertone…and this face, this stupid, open face, always giving every feeling away – told him everything. Thor was no cat watching prey. Thor pitied him. This arrogant thug dared to take pity in the weak, lost, crazed animal he really was.

Additionally to the rage, Loki felt embarrassment bubbling in his chest. It made him feel as if he was a child again. He hated to feel like a child.

"I'd rather you had!" he hissed. "I know you are the stronger fighter, but you could at least do me the favor of showing me some respect instead of playing with me like this!"

Thor slowly shook his head. "I will not kill you, brother," he said and somehow, Loki found the strength to scream.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

He straightened up, ignored the blinding flash of pain and aimed with the staff, leading his magic powers through it, gathering them in the blade and made them shoot out in a straight, shining arrow. It was more difficult than it had been with Gungnir or the Chitauri's staff, but maybe he was just more tired than he had been back then.

The power flash was fast, faster than Thor's movements. It hit him square in the chest and this time it was the Thunder God who flew backwards through the air, ripping the concrete open as he skittered over the floor.

"I am not your brother, you thick imbecile! I never was!"

_I will let you go. I will not kill you._ Anger and humiliation were battling within him, making his voice shake and crack, but he could not hear it; his own thoughts and the blood pounding in his ears were too loud. Deep down, he was aware he was losing control, something within him was breaking down; that he was talking without thinking, but he could not stop himself.

"For your people, I am nothing but a pet kept on a whim. A joke. And they will pay for that. Starting with you."

Thor sat up again and got back on his feet, too; and though his movements were slow and heavy, Loki could see that his spell had not done any real damage. It had to be great, being of Asgardian blood.

"Maybe for some," Thor admitted. "but not to all. Not to me." …and he did look at him with this soft pity he hated so much and then it hit Loki: He had gotten over the shock. Thor was simple enough to accept the fact. It was almost admirable. That irked him.

"Not to you?" he snapped, putting all the disbelieve he could muster into the words. "You? You of all people tell me that you do not care that I've put on…on.." He had been meaning to say ' _the same level as you_ ', but he could not speak it out, that particular lie, and finally settled for a half-truth. "…in the position of royalty? You do not care that hour hose hosted Laufey's breed?"

Saying it seemed to fill his chest with sharp shards and the self-hatred left a bitter aftertaste, but just the look on Thor's face was worth it. There was hurt, surprise, and so much shock Loki wondered if Thor maybe had not known that particular piece of information…but before he could ask, the other man had brought himself back under control – or, at least, what counted as 'control' with a man who had started a war because of a mocking word.

"I do not. I just wish…" He looked down at his feet, seeming utterly embarrassed, before he looked up and locked gazes with Loki again.

"Loki, I am sorry you feel that way. I am sorry you do not know that you are more than a pet or a joke. I know…I know that you blame me for that, and you are not wrong. But still…

"I do know that both of us tend to solve our problems by lashing out thoughtlessly, but this has gone too far. Give up, before these people here have to pay the price again. Give up before I have to hurt you again, please. Help me stop this. This is not you, Loki, this is not the man I have known for centuries. I beg you, get back to your senses, brother – and my brother you are, you would know it if took a moment to think."

Loki could not answer to that. He should not have to. Thor should not be capable of confusing him with words. Images, of their childhood, of their battles, of dead and dying civilians danced in his head. He was shivering with a feeling he could not place and once again, before he could think it over, he moved.

He could more feel than hear the howl that tore itself form his throat when he jumped. He was aware the maneuver was reckless but he could not stop himself. He felt his muscles strain when he tensed them, readying himself for the impact

Instead of simply dodging, Thor held Mjölnir out in front of himself, aiming it straight at Loki. The younger man could see electricity gathering at the hammer's flat upper side, felt the air crackling with energy all around them…

And then, there was only white.

He felt his nerves being fried. Every single muscle in his body painfully petrified, every string spanning to the point of ripping. His lungs seemed to freeze and he could literally feel his heart missing a beat. His eyes felt dry and pressed, his teeth felt hot and an incredible, stinging pain shot through his head when the electricity-overdose reached the bundled nerves there.

He had been hit by lightning before, but it had never been that bad. He had always been able to take it, but this time, he blacked out for a moment before the lightening released his body.

Luckily, Loki's muscles relaxed when the electricity stopped flowing and he dropped the spear when he lost consciousness, causing it to shatter into a thousand pieces. Otherwise, he might have impaled himself when his body finally hit the floor…and this time, he did not get back up.

When their enemy was down, obviously defeated, everything seemed to stand still for a heartbeat, then Thor walked towards his brother. Even though every fiber of his being wanted to race, he moved cautiously, just in case Loki was faking his unconsciousness.

There was a tense moment when Thor crouched down next to him and lightly touched his arm, but Loki still didn't move, not even when Thor gently turned him onto his back; he just rolled over limply, disheveled hair half-covering his face.

When he was on his back, Loki's eyes flickered open, wandered up to the face of his brother. Blue met blue, and, for a split second, Loki felt reminded of the past….of when Gerriöd had held him captive after catching him spying. He had been weak and tired back then, too, and Thor... He had torn the castle apart to find him, everything around them had been rubble and debris, and Thor, covered in dust, his hands dripping and his forearms speckled with blood that was not his, had sat over him in almost exactly the same way, radiating strength, worry and protectiveness.

Just this time, Thor was not here to protect him from anything. Thor was not here to save him from an enemy, this time, he was there to hand him over.

It should have scared him, hurt him, but it was too late now…he was too exhausted, too worn out to feel anything. Even his anger had faded. Loki's vision began to drench in grey. He could more feel than hear Thor shift, leaning further over him. The last thing he knew was the hand touching him, the skin warm and rough and painfully familiar against the junction of his jaw and neck ( _thank you, brother, that is what he said the last time he did this so gently…_ ), then he faded into black oblivion.

Thor watched Loki's eyes flutter close and reached out to cup his neck, mostly out of familiarity, partially because he wanted to feel the signs of life, the beat of a heart, the faint breaths. His thumb brushed a circle over an angular jaw, but there was no reaction. Loki was fully unconscious.

Uncertain what to do next, Thor remained half-kneeling at his brother's side. He had not wanted to hurt him this badly.

His fingers still were touching Loki's neck when wind got caught in his hair and cape, telling him the aircrafts were approaching. He listened to his brother's leveled breathing, the Quinjets' ramps opening, the steps of dozens of warriors hurrying towards him and his fingers flexed around Mjölnir's handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the next cliffhanger, dearest readers.  
> So, now it's official: It is not only the longest chapter, is also completes the second ark, if you want to call it that. From now on, there'll be more interactions between the Avengers and Loki – finally, I have to say; I honestly had no idea I would write so much when I started this…the story just kind of escalated…  
> Alas, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you all next time (what might just take me a bit, I've been given the topic of my bachelor thesis today…and wow, I do have a lot of work ahead of me – I say sorry in advance!)
> 
> Lots of Love, KandyKitten

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Lots Of Love,  
> Kandy Kitten


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